


The Good Doctor

by vegaisthesound



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Gangsters, Illegal Doctoring, M/M, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegaisthesound/pseuds/vegaisthesound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trafalgar Law finds the excitement he was lacking in his prestigious life as a cardiac surgeon after descending into the criminal underworld to work as a backroom doctor for the Whitebeard family. </p><p>It's going remarkably well, until one of Whitebeard's men seems to take a special interest in aggravating Law at every opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to all authors of Kid/Law and One Piece Mafia AUs.
> 
> Tags and rating will be updated as the story progresses.
> 
> This is my first attempt at a story that doesn't get right into the good stuff (that'll be about chapter 3). I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ultra special extra thanks to Grey / therealslimshady for their fabulous artwork from the first chapter! Please check it out, http://pastamachine.tumblr.com/post/92869152497/if-everyone-in-the-room-hadnt-been-so-distracted

Although it might surprise anyone who met him now, Trafalgar Law had led a charmed life. 

Being ushered through nation's top private schools since he was out of diapers had given him endless career options. Becoming a recognized prodigy in the field of cardiac surgery at the tender age of 24 allowed him to name his salary at any hospital in the world. And being the only child of Trafalgar Sr.--one of the most well known (and richest) healthcare tycoons in the U.S.--tended to open the few doors that remained shut in the face of Law's irreproachable qualifications. 

But even with all of these advantages, his sterling pedigree had always served him far more pain than pleasure. His success had tied him to doing only the most difficult operations on the most exclusive clientele. He had never held a job that he genuinely enjoyed, and cultivating the social contacts necessary for his planned career trajectory had him contemplating plans for unsolvable murders on a weekly basis. He couldn't stand his parents, despised his peers, and was very close to telling his next wealthy patient right where they could shove their generous donation. 

Some might tell him to count himself lucky, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. Afterall, people flew from all over the planet for the privilege of having their hearts repaired by the famous Dr. Trafalgar. He was the star of his hospital's surgical team, the scion of his father's legacy, and damn good looking to boot. 

He would tell them first of all, to go fuck themselves, and second of all, that the luckiest thing that ever happened to him was being in the wrong place at the wrong time one night at the end of last summer.

His father would have called his actions “career suicide”. The police would call it a felony to aid and abet injured parties of a gang conflict without notifying the proper authorities, as all medical professionals are required to do by law. Fortunately for Law, neither his father nor the police were ever going to learn of the events that transpired that night. 

The details aren't terribly important at the moment, it's only notable because that spectacular disaster of a night was the first time Law had fun while working. He even managed to get a new job offer out of it. 

A week later he had resigned from his hospital of residence under the guise of leaving to start his own charity program providing healthcare to low-income patients, and was soon set up in a shabby illegitimate health clinic on the so-called wrong side of the tracks, ready to render his services to the members of Whitebeard's family, the most notorious criminal organization this side of the Atlantic.

Most of the work is merely the routine of an average family practitioner: physicals, vaccines, sprains, diagnosing the flu. But there's also the occasional drug overdose, broken face, smashed kneecap, stabbing, and the rare gunshot wound—stuff Law hasn't seen since he was interning in the county hospital's ER. It's an interesting environment, to say the least. 

He can go to work without taking out his piercings, or keeping his ink covered with long sleeves and latex gloves all the time, because half of his patients look like they murdered their way out of prison and have the facial tattoos to prove it. His aesthetic is quite tame compared to the clients that are in and out of his clinic on Friday nights. They might be intimidating, except the other half of his patients are those same stone cold gangsters' kids and girlfriends and grandmas coming in on weekday afternoons. There's nothing more humanizing than seeing a 6'7” guy with a Glasgow smile meekly escorting his 82 year old granny to her annual check up, or grimacing more painfully than his eight year old son when Law is resetting a dislocated finger. 

Most of Law's nighttime clients are quite rough around the edges, and he's used to it at this point in the game. Of course, not all his patients are particularly cooperative. 

Some would like nothing more than to score the good drugs, but Law is very strict about his prescriptions not being used for recreational use, and can spot all their glib bullshit before they open their mouths. In his opinion, they can put their own ass on the line to buy the junk if that's what they're after, he has to protect his supplier.

Others think they have big enough balls to intimidate him in his own examination room. Those are the most troublesome, though Law has had years in prep school to perfect his “it-seems-this-piece-of-trash-grew-a-mouth-and-started-speaking-to-me” look of pure disdain. He can make grown men wither under that look, and it's only the most obnoxious, arrogant, and self-absorbed of his clients that fail to fall in line after one appointment.

Speaking of obnoxious, arrogant, and self-absorbed, one such man's business brings him into Law's clinic in the earliest hours of the night. 

Stereotypes about gangsters are vastly exaggerated as a rule, but Eustass Kid seems determined to make up the deficit by being everything that people hate. He's offensive, aggressive, takes up way too much space, and gets a kick out of making ordinary citizens flinch whenever he looms in their general direction. 

He's also sitting shirtless on Law's exam table at three in the morning, complaining long and loud about how useless Law's doctoring is, even as Law is in the middle of stitching up the long gash in his arm from a switchblade encounter earlier in the evening. Eustass directs his complaints to his silent associate, who he addresses only as 'Killer,' that followed him in and took up the chair against the wall.

“It's not even that fucking bad! You didn't have to make me come all the way down here, Jesus Christ. This is a waste of my time, Killer. I could be asleep in my own bed right now if you weren't worrying over nothing.” 

Eustass doesn't appear to deem Law worthy of conversation, which is just fine. Law wasn't raised up as a gangster, and the petty power games they try to play don't mean much to him. As long as the asshole sits still long enough to get treated, he couldn't care less, and it's easy enough to ignore the man's yammering to concentrate on the stitches. 

He's on stitch #24, close to finished, when Eustass leans away with no warning.

“Your little nurse here is much cuter than you, Doc. I'd take a house call from him anyday.” 

Eustass doesn't stop with the flip comment. He winks at Shachi and then reaches over to where the nurse is standing to tweak his backside. Shachi jumps a foot in the air, and Law digs his fingers into the muscle of Eustass' forearm to pull him back into position. Eustass lets himself be pulled, still leering as the nurse abandons restocking the supply drawer and hustles out of the room with a backwards glare. 

“I'll thank you to keep your paws off my assistant, Mr. Eustass.” Law's tone was glacial. One thing he wouldn't tolerate was his staff being harassed. 

Eustass laughs roughly and waves off the warning, “Lighten up, sweetheart. If you did your job faster I could be out of here already.” Law wants to jab him with a scalpel and finish the job whatever fool had mucked up earlier. 

Something murderous must have shown in his face because Killer, quiet throughout the whole conflict, finally speaks up, “Kid, if you make the doc mad he's gonna give you some fucked up stitches.”

Eustass snorts and rolls his eyes, but doesn't make anymore smart remarks as Law tugs his arm back into proper position and takes a deep breath before resuming his work. 

It only takes a few more precise flicks of the needle until his arm is sewn shut and the thread tied off. Law wipes over it again with a soaked alcohol pad and nods to himself. 

“Alright, come back in a week and I can remove these stitches when it's healed.” 

Eustass interrupts him before he can get into anymore details, “What, seriously! I have to fucking come back? It can't possibly be that hard, I'll just take them out myself!” 

Suddenly Law is facing off with a glowering menace of a man. He takes care not to let any of his irritation show, deliberately sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“It's important that you let a professional remove them, otherwise you run the risk of infection or scarring.”

Eustass makes a derisive sound, “I don't give a shit about a scar, and you,” he jabs the air with a finger in Law's direction, “can fuck off if you expect me to drive all the way over again just have a ' _professional_ ' with a stick up his ass cut out some stitches when I could do it in two minutes.”

And Law can't tell if it's the late hour, the constant sneering rudeness, or Eustass' ridiculous red hair driving him madder than a bull but something about the man finally cracks his composure. He slams his palm down on the exam table with a smack that makes Eustass pause, and in an instant he's standing with a scalpel in hand and he's not entirely sure when he grabbed it but it adds a lot of emphasis to every gesture he makes while leaning over Eustass, who is sitting very still and keeping his eyes on the blade.

In contrast to his posture, Law keeps his voice smoother than ice.

“Mr. Eustass. I offer only the best of care to my patients because I take a personal interest in their well-being. If my patients are unwilling to meet my excellent standard of care, I'm sure you can imagine how that would affect their health, and subsequently my reputation as a physician. As such, I do not allow my patients to become remiss in their responsibility for their own health. So, if you're telling me that you can't be bothered to take proper care of your own limb, I might as well perform an amputation for you right here and now. Do you understand your options, _sir?_ ”

Eustass' stare snaps from the knife to meet his own, and Law returns the look with equal intensity, thanks to the fury still running cold in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, Law can see that Killer is frozen half-way to standing from his seat, likely waiting for a signal from Eustass before he incapacitates Law. 

Law himself is ninety-nine percent sure that he's about to get cut up into a lot of little pieces and scattered around the city dumpsters, and he's starting to wonder when the hell he lost his damn mind.

If everyone in the room hadn't been so distracted at that moment, someone might've heard the small sound of cupid's arrow hitting Kid's heart, dead-center. 

Kid is stunned silent by Law's speech for exactly half a second before he huffs and shakes his head, “You're a goddamn psycho, Doc. A real fucking piece of work. Where the fuck did they find you? I can't believe the boss is paying for this. Killer, get my shit, we're leaving.”

Law takes a step back and drops the scalpel into the pocket of his lab coat, slightly confused that his threats are going ignored, and Eustass pushes off the exam table to leave without bothering to even put his shirt back on. 

“A week, Mr. Eustass,” Law repeats.

“I heard you the first time!” Kid growls as he shoves out the door.

Killer scoops up Kid's torn and blood-stained shirt and suit jacket before following him out, but stops before he gets outside of the room and turns back to Law with a solemn expression.

“Sorry about this, he gets embarrassed whenever he has to see a doctor.” 

Law blinks. Embarrassed? Was this all supposed to be explained by Eustass Kid being embarrassed? 

“Hey Killer! Let's fucking GO.” Kid yells from the waiting room before Law has a chance to reply. 

And as suddenly as they arrived, they're gone, leaving Law standing alone to try and wrap his brain around the night's events. Shachi pokes his head out from where he had sequestered himself in the office as soon as he hears the clinic's door shut behind them, “That guy was such an asshole! Can you believe him!”

“Yeah,” Law replies, “I wouldn't mind if he didn't come back after all.”

Shachi comes back into to exam room and waves one hand angrily in the direction that Eustass and Killer had just exited. “You saw how he pinched my ass right? That fucking pig!”

“You won't have to deal with him again, I'll make sure of that. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll suffer a fatal shooting before his next appointment.” Law sighs, “It's late. You can go home, I'll close up.” 

“Ugh, shit it is. Thanks, doctor. See you for lunch tomorrow?” 

“Mmhm.” Law waves absently as Shachi rounds up his coat and keys and said goodbye for the night. He gets busy cleaning up the examination room, and straightens up his desk in the office before finally locking the building up and walking out to his car. The whole time he's turning over what had just happened, still baffled as to why he wasn't being disassembled into component parts out in the alley behind the clinic about now. 

He knew, of course, where he had heard Eustass' name before. Law had made sure to pick up every name involved in the upper management of the family, and Eustass Kid was one of Whitebeard's capos. After tonight he had a face and a bad personality to match with the name. His mostly-silent companion, Killer, could only be one of his men. Stories of what kind of work Eustass' crew handled were a little more elusive to come by; whenever Law asked questions he came away with the impression that it was best for him not to know much about the family's affairs.

Law liked to think he was usually quite level headed under pressure. Shachi was his friend as well as his employee, and Law didn't tolerate any sort of harassment at the clinic, but he knew better than to escalate conflicts with men that probably carried three types of concealed weapons to work. Dealing with a couple mid-level thugs was nothing in comparison to the high society schmoozing he had to navigate before. 

He berates himself the entire drive across the city to his apartment. There were always smarter ways to handle things, but something about Eustass Kid had really gotten under his skin, and that was unacceptable. By the time he walked through his door he was confident that he'd never let himself be dragged down to the level of some punk who could be nothing more than violent and uncouth.

\---

Five days go by without any major incidents, and Law has nearly forgotten about Eustass until Shachi barges into the clinic office early one evening and quickly shuts the door behind him. Law looks up from behind the desk, prepared to reprimand him for not knocking, but the nurse starts into it without even an 'Excuse me, doctor.'

“That asshole is back. I'm not talking to him so you need go out there and deal with him.”

Law doesn't need to ask which asshole Shachi is referring to, there's only one person that they've agreed has earned that singular title. He leaves his open casebook on the desk with a sigh, locates the appropriate file for one 'Eustass, Kid,' and passes through the short hallway to the waiting room.

He finds Eustass sprawled over one of the chairs, taking up enough space for three normal people and looking bored in ragged jeans and a grungy leather jacket, with Killer standing close by. They both glance up when he enters the room and Law lifts his chin up a bit and fixes Eustass with a raised eyebrow, determined to keep the upper hand this time around. Kid smirks at him.

“Mr. Eustass, what can I help you with?” 

Kid stretches one arm across the chair next to him, his smirk widening until Law can see the white gleam of a canine. The waiting room isn't tiny, but it feels like the man fills most of it just lounging around. “What, no hello? I thought you'd be happy to see me, Doc, since I'm here to get my stitches out by a _professional_.”

Law makes a show of checking the file in his hand and pointedly ignores the sarcasm, “I believe I told you to wait a week, you're two days early. Please come back on Saturday, or Sunday afternoon if that's more convenient for you.” 

“It would be 'convenient' if you'd just take them out now, since I'm here and all. That way I don't have to come bug you again, and Killer doesn't have to drive me by here over the weekend, yeah?” he turns towards Killer for confirmation, but the blond doesn't deign to respond. Law isn't sure if he imagines the hint of exasperation on his face or not. Eustass doesn't seem to care, and only grins at Law, “So can we get on with it, Doc?”

Law frowns back at him, and snaps the folder shut in one hand, “I'll take a look, but if I think it's too soon to take them out you will have to come back.” 

“Alright, alright!” Kid pushes out of his seat and rolls his shoulders before strolling into the exam room, “It wouldn't kill ya to lighten up a bit, you know.” Killer makes no move to leave his position by the door, so Law sets his jaw and follows Eustass. 

The check up goes more smoothly than he had hoped. Eustass' arm actually had healed ,and he stays mostly quiet as the stitches are removed. He's still grinning like a loon the whole time however, and Law suspects he's being treated as a bit of a joke, so he doesn't feel unjustified if he happens to be rougher than necessary when yanking out stitches. None of it seems to wipe the smirk off Kid's face, anyway.

“Despite your inability to follow simple instructions, you're entirely healed.” Law declares as he makes a note on Eustass' file. Eustass inspects his bicep carefully and then gives it a flex when he notices he has Law's attention again. Law keeps his face the perfect picture of contempt.

“Good as new, Doc. Told you it was nothing.” He hops off the exam table and tugs down the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Yes, well that is because you received proper treatment.”

“Right,” Eustass smiles wolfishly and hooks his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

Law waits a moment, until it's clear the man has no intention of leaving.

“If you have any further problems with the injury, come back in. Otherwise you can go.”

“Right,” Eustass repeats, then finally makes a move to grab his jacket and head out the door after shooting one last grin in Law's direction. 

Law grimaces as soon as he disappears down the hall. The man managed to be aggravating during the simplest encounters. Hopefully it would be a good long while before the next time Eustass Kid darkened his door.

\---

Eustass shows up the next week. And again a few days after that. And then on three more days the following week. Always with Killer in tow, who seemed to have endless patience for his boss's whims, but never with a problem that actually needed medical attention.

The pair takes to showing up just before sunset, in the lull that divided what Law had come to think of as his daytime and nighttime patients. Law assumed it was before they had to start working, but he didn't bother to ask. Killer would be looking sleek and lethal in a dark suit and tie, while Eustass probably didn't know how to tie a tie as he never had one on and just left the top few buttons of his shirt undone, although his suits were obviously well-cut and his shoes gleamed. Law was of the uncharitable opinion that if even Eustass could look good in them, they had to be designer. Probably Italian.

Shachi has stopped hiding in the office every time they appear and settled into a routine of sneering at Eustass, who returns the glares with malicious good cheer, but otherwise makes no effort to antagonize the nurse. Instead, Law has the honor of bearing the rest of Eustass' attentions. Eustass seems to hold the infuriating belief that any attention is good attention, and takes every opportunity to test Law's tolerance. No matter how many times Law berates him not to smoke indoors, or to stay out of his office, or to just go the hell away before Law gives him a good reason to see a doctor, Eustass soaks it all up and comes back for more. 

By the second week, Law is more or less resigned to Eustass' increasingly frequent visits. 

“Hey Doc, you busy tomorrow? I'll take you out, show you a good time.” 

Law replies without looking away from his paperwork, “Don't smoke in here.”

“Fine, fine.” He can hear the soft rustle of Eustass tucking the pack of cigarettes back into a jacket pocket across the room. “So when's your next free night?”

“I work every night.”

“Ha, but seriously, we gotta get that stick outta your ass, Doc. What's your pleasure? Gambling? Drugs? Girls? C'mon, my treat.” 

Law flicks a completed page over and digs into his desk drawer for a blank form. “Not interested.”

“Boys then?” 

At that Law makes a mistake, and glares before he can stop himself. Kid is grinning from where he's leaning against the doorframe and raises his brows salaciously.

“Perhaps I wasn't being clear. I'm not interested in spending any time with you outside of work, Mr. Eustass.” 

Kid groans so dramatically that Law inwardly rolls his eyes, “Ouch! Have a heart, Doc, or I might start to think you don't like me.”

“I'd hate to give you that idea,” Law mutters at his desk.

Finally Killer reminds Kid that they have somewhere else to be, and they take off into the night, with only a “Seeya, Doc.” until the next visit.

Eustass doesn't stop asking him to go out and do things, though Law always shoots him down. He really can't imagine why Eustass thought Law might actually want to spend time with him after he has made it quite clear he was not going to agree. Eustass even starts bringing things with him, sometimes just little things like a coffee from the shop down the block, or a pack of mints from a convenience store, or even a box of takeout from wherever he and Killer had presumably stopped to eat before dropping in.

Other times the offerings are more extravagant, like a nice pair of brand name sunglasses, or an entire case of imported vodka. Eustass would waltz into Law's office like he owned the place, plunk down whatever item he dredged up from god knows where, smug as a cat delivering a dead rat to its owner's door, and say something inane like, “Here Doc, I don't need this so you can have it.” As if Law had any use for it either. He tried to pawn the stuff off onto his other patients, or just toss it on the principle of the matter, though he did drink the coffee because it was a shame to waste a good cup, even if it was delivered by the biggest pain in Law's neck. 

If Law happened to be busy with a patient when Eustass dropped by, he might go back to his office and just find something new on his desk. One day it's the keys to a Lamborghini, and that is simply too ridiculous to shrug off. 

When he finds them, Law snatches them up and stalks out to the waiting room. Killer is there alone, sitting in one of the thinly cushioned chairs, thumbing through a six month old Time magazine with an ankle crossed over his knee. He and Law ignore each other for the moment as Law pushes through the clinic's front door and glares at the very real, very yellow Lamborghini parked innocently in the glow of the street lights. It's missing its plates, though is otherwise intact, and Law doesn't know much about cars but it looks very expensive. Eustass is nowhere to be seen.

He turns around into the waiting room again and sharply addresses Killer, “Where's that redheaded idiot of yours?”

“Out back,” Killer replies without looking up from his page.

Law mutters a few more choice insults under his breath and stomps down the hallway, fists clenched so tight that the keys are digging into his palm. He shoves the back door open and there, standing alone in the dim alley taking a drag off his cigarette, is the redheaded idiot himself. Eustass looks over his shoulder lazily when he hears the door, and his face breaks into a wide Chesire cat grin as he sees Law, “Hey Doc.”

Law chucks the keys at his stupid face before he can decide on a more appropriate course of action. Eustass laughs and fumbles to catch them when they hit his chest.

“What the fuck is this, Eustass!” Law knows he's acting well beyond the range of plausible disaffection but he doesn't give a shit. He's unable to pretend Eustass' antics don't have the ability to affect him at the moment.

Kid gives him a little shrug, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth, “What's it look like? I thought you could use a new ride.”

Law has to take a deep breath to get his tone back under control. “I don't want gifts from patients.” 

“Liar,” Eustass accuses, “I saw you take a whole box of cookies from Freddy's sister last week. What's the deal, you like her more than me?”

“For one, yes I do. For another, I don't accept _stolen_ gifts from patients.”

“You mean this?” Eustass holds up the keys and gives them a little shake so they jingle, “This ain't stolen, I got it special for you.”

“Well forgive me if I don't believe you,” Law sneers. “Stop bringing me things I don't need, Eustass. I'm not impressed. Just get out of here already.”

Eustass responds with another gravelly laugh, “It was a joke Doc, a joke! Damn, you're so cold.”

“Kid.”

Law starts at Killer's low voice right behind him, and looks around to find the man standing stoic just inside the hall, slightly abashed that he was so distracted by Eustass he didn't even notice Killer had snuck up on him.

“Huh, what?” Eustass says, and checks his watch. “Shit. It's been fun Doc, but I gotta get to work. See ya around.” He flicks the butt of his smoke to the ground and slides past Law through the doorway without a second glance. 

“Don't come back!” Law orders at his retreating back, then feels like an idiot for it. Of course he'll be back.


	2. Chapter 2

Aside from the occasional interference from his least favorite and most persistent patient, Law settles into a pleasant routine. By day he plays a fairly normal family physician, and by night he's running an urgent care room, patching up bleeding, wild-eyed men and nodding along to highly exaggerated stories of the exploits that landed them on his exam table. 

He becomes familiar with a few of his more frequent clients, but he has remained a step removed from Whitebeard's family, intending merely to be a useful component in the crime lord's considerable arsenal of tools without being drawn into the family itself. That's just one reason why only the top leadership know his real name, and he's only dealt with Whitebeard's underboss face-to-face, never the Boss himself. The less involved Law is, the easier it will be to cut himself loose, if it ever comes to that. 

However, his standoffish attitude does not go unnoticed. The day Law's been dreading eventually comes when he's invited to socialize, outside of work. 

One of his favorite clients stops by on a Thursday right after the clinic opens for the day and knocks on the open door. Law gives up a small smile when he recognizes him. 

Ace had helped him start out on the right foot when he got set up in this clinic a few months ago, giving him the details about which of the higher ups to contact for the fraudulent permits or if the cops showed up, and helpfully informed Law that he could also get a great fire insurance payment out of any real estate Law might want to be rid of. Unfortunately Law had to decline that last offer, but he was grateful for how friendly Ace had been while he was getting settled into the job. 

“Hey Doc! Good afternoon,” Ace says as he steps through the door, smiling back widely.

Law couldn't help but like a guy who was always polite, even if he went around in shorts and an unbuttoned shirt in the middle of winter. Everyone in the family had their quirks. 

“Hello, Ace. What can I do for you?” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk and Ace takes it with a grin, though he spins the chair around and crosses his arms over the back of it. Law thinks they're the same age, but still can't help but see Ace as a bit of a punk kid. Nice guy, though.

“I was wondering what you were up to tonight? Some of the guys are going down to the bar, you should come.”

Law makes a face immediately, “No, thank you.”

Ace obviously finds that funny, and isn't the least bit put off by Law's answer, “Come on Doc, it'd do you some good for people to see you somewhere besides this shithole.”

“This shithole is where all those people come to keep their limbs and organs in one piece.” Law shuffles some papers into files in what he hopes is a dismissive manner, but it doesn't work.

“Yeah and if anybody needs their face reattached tonight they can give you a call. Even Marco thinks you should get out more, it'd build trust and goodwill and all that shit, ya know?”

Shit. Sometimes these gangsters could be more manipulative than the wives of U.S. Congressmen. If Ace was invoking the name of his capo, that must mean this was Marco's idea in the first place, and Law was reluctant to go against Marco's suggestions. He was the only one of Whitebeard's capos that seemed to have Law's best interests in mind, and was therefore the only one whose opinions Law actually gave a damn about. 

He gives Ace a long suffering sigh, “If I absolutely must.” 

Ace brightens and jumps up from the chair, “Great! Hey, bring your nurse and that pharmacist you've been hiding away too. It'll be fun!” He's gone before Law can take it back.

His only consolation is that it can't possibly be worse than one of his mother's fundraisers.

\---

Eight hours later finds Law walking through a beat-up steel door into the basement bar owned and frequented by Whitebeard's family, with Shachi and Penguin—his aforementioned pharmacist/drug pusher—in tow.

It's dim, loud, and smokey inside, cluttered with tables and chairs and booths on one side, a long bar in dark wood against the back wall, and a couple pool tables squeezed into the other end of the room. About half the tables are occupied, and most of the seats at the bar, mostly by the kind of toughs who came into the clinic after midnight, but also women with bright colored hair and boisterous laughs.

Law scans around impatiently while he straightens his jacket, ignoring the curious looks being turned his way, until he spots Ace's shaggy black head at one of the booths. He leads Shachi and Penguin over, and returns Ace's wide grin with a raised eyebrow as they all pile into the open seats. 

“Glad you guys made it!” Ace greets them cheerfully, “How about a round? On me of course.” He's up and heading towards the bar without giving them a chance to reply. 

Shachi settles in easily enough, he's used to the crowd, but Penguin is trying to furtively scope out the room from under the brim of his hat without making eye contact with anyone. His middle class upbringing and life of white-collar crime did not prepare him for a sudden immersion into gang culture. Most of the work he does for Law doesn't actually involve crossing paths with anyone in the family itself, he only lifts class III drugs from the hospital pharmacy and fabricates the records to make them disappear before he passes the lot off to Law. 

Law couldn't fault Penguin for being a bit unsettled, he had sort of compelled him into coming, but since his own days of being put off by a bar full of mafiosos were long past he wasn't exactly sympathetic either. When men as imposing as Eustass and Killer had become little more than nuisances, the rest of them ceased to trouble him. 

Maybe it wasn't the best thing for Law that the more time he spent around members of Whitebeard's family, the less dangerous he found them. Proximity seemed to erode the healthy caution he had started with. But a part of him enjoyed the sense of power that came from swimming among the sharks without getting bit. And if he were being completely honest, the most thrilling part of the job was when he was just a little unsure whether he was about to be eaten alive or not.

Before Penguin has a chance to get too stressed, Ace distracts them all by returning to the table with a pair of pints in each fist and plunks them down, “Ta-da! Beer!”

Law takes one, along with Shachi and Penguin, relieved for the diversion.

The awkwardness eases over the course of an hour, and a few more rounds. Ace makes an excellent drinking companion, and he appears to be good friends with just about everyone milling around the bar, judging by the amount of people who come up to their table to trade some good natured ribbing with the man, or just yell it at him from across the room. Ace can come up with a dozen wicked anecdotes about his time working with anyone who stops by, and soon he has Shachi in stitches from spinning a long tale about that one time he and his brother wrecked an entire restaurant trying to avoid arrest. 

“Oh my god, that can't be real!” Shachi manages to gasp out after another fit of laughter.

“I swear on my life it is, ha!” Ace slaps the table and laughs back at him. “That old pig was making the most hilarious face when he realized who we were. Man, you guys should really meet my brother. That kid turns every place upside down and inside out wherever he goes, he's absolutely nuts, it's great!”

Even Law is getting caught up in the good humor, Ace just makes it contagious. He's almost grateful he was dragged out of the house tonight. “I'm surprised I haven't met him yet, does he work for the family too?”

“Nah, he works for Shanks actually. He's a star in that redhead's fighting ring, yeah? Check him out sometime, it's crazy.”

“Hm, I would've expected you to be working together, you sound close.”

Ace shrugs and digs out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes to light up, “We went our separate ways a while back, this is just how it turned out. But Whitebeard and Shanks are on good terms, ya know? It's not like we're gonna end up on opposite sides of a fight or whatever, so I see him all the time.”

“Right.” Law didn't actually know that, but he files away the information. It's just good sense to keep tabs on the relations between all the crime families operating in the city. It would even be a good idea to start making some contacts in other organizations...

Before he can start formulating a plan to make friendly inroads into Shank's operations, a flash of color catches Law's eye at the entrance and he has to stifle a groan. Eustass Kid just walked in. Of course, as soon as he was starting to have a good time, Eustass had to show up to ruin it. 

He doesn't even have time to try and avoid being seen, Eustass spots him straight away, eyes locking onto his from across the room. Thankfully, instead of coming over, Eustass just shoots him an amused glance and leads his entourage to an open table tucked in the corner, between the bar and pool tables. Killer is with him of course, suited up as always and wearing sunglasses inside, at night, rendering his face even more expressionless than usual. 

Kid has two additional followers that Law had never seen with him before tonight as well, both as huge and imposing as their leader, maybe scarier if that was even possible. One is swarthy and well over six and a half feet tall, and the other has long untamed blue hair, a heavily scarred mouth, and thorns tattooed around his neck. 

_What a pack of brutes they make_ , Law thinks as he watches the four of them getting situated with a round of beers and shots, but he keeps it to himself since he doesn't know how well Ace gets along with Kid's crew. Going from Ace's treatment of everyone else in the place, they're probably all the best of friends. 

Ace notices the shift in his attention, “That's Kid's crew, there. You know 'em, Doc? Pretty tough crowd.”

Law shrugs carelessly to cover up his displeasure, “Not really, Eustass and Killer have stopped in the clinic a few times is all. I don't know the other two.”

“Wire's the big one, Heat's the one with the tats. Don't worry though, they're only bad news for people outside the family,” Ace says, grinning conspiratorially.

Law resists the urge to roll his eyes and tries for looking utterly bored instead, “I'm not worried, I get the feeling that his bark is worse than his bite. He's annoying, but seems harmless.” 

Ace lets out a laugh unexpectedly, causing Law to look over at him sharply.

“Sorry, sorry, that's just the first time I've ever heard somebody call Eustass Kid 'harmless.' You know who he is, right?”

“Yes,” Law says slowly, wary that he's about to make himself sound stupid. “He's one of Whitebeard's capos.”

“Yeah, and you know what he does?”

“I suppose not exactly. No one seemed very forthcoming on the matter.”

“Alright well I'll let you in on the insider info, since you came out tonight to our little watering hole you're practically part of the family. Kid's little squad there is our family's main muscle, they enforce consequences for anybody who skips out on their loan, or fucks up their last chance.”

Law's eyebrow quirks without his consent, “Enforce? You mean like... physical persuasion?”

Ace nods seriously, “Yep, you got the picture Doc. Shit can get messy.” 

Shachi, who up until now had been listening quietly, decides to chime in, “For real? I guess he looks scary enough but he always acts like such a punk, I didn't think he was anything serious.”

“Yeah man, you don't want to get on the wrong side of that guy. His crew has probably racked up more bodies than the rest of us combined.”

Penguin drops his glass on the table with a loud clink at the same time Law scoffs, disbelieving, “You're exaggerating. A man who whines that much when he gets stitches can't be that bad, even if he is followed around by a guy named Killer.”

A grin finally cracks Ace's grave expression, “Heh, alright maybe not. It's mostly true though! Hey, did he really bitch when you stitched him up? You might not want to spread that around, for your own good,” Ace trails off, laughing. 

Law 'hmph's at him and lets his gaze slide back over the crowd to settle on Eustass' little group. They're surprisingly subdued, he had imagined the men Eustass hung around with off the clock would be just as brash and loud as their leader, and Law can't fail to note that they were arranged around the table in a way that made it possible for them to have eyes on every inch of the room at any given moment. Eustass himself sat with his back to the corner, a prime spot that gives him a clear line of sight of the entrance and the alcove that Law assumed led to the bathrooms, though maybe also a back door. 

Eustass catches him looking again, and shoots him a smirk as he gets up from his chair. Law counters with a glare as fierce as he could muster in an attempt to warn him from approaching with his eyes alone, but the heedless idiot swaggers right over.

By the time Kid reaches their table, Law's glower should have been strong enough to strike a man dead, though Eustass always had to be exceptionally resilient just to spite him. 

“Hey Ace, I see you finally dragged the big fancy doctor away from his desk. Gotta say Doc, I was starting to think you were chained to that thing 'cause you always turn me down, but here you are!”

Law focuses on incinerating him where he stands instead of rising to the provocation. Eustass isn't put off in the slightest, and nobody else at the table seemed about to step in and help scare him away. Traitors.

“Well, now that you've finally deigned to grace us with your presence you really class up the joint.” Eustass gaze slides over him, so intently it makes his skin prickle, “I thought you looked good in the white coat but this is real nice too, you should stop by more often. You always turn me down so I thought you just hated having fun. Hey! Lemme buy you a drink.” 

“I already have a drink,” Law says icily. 

“Alright, but you at least gotta come say hi to my crew, you want to be polite, don'tcha? Or they're gonna think you're a stuck up prick. I mean, ya are a stuck up prick, but you could at least act like you're not.” 

“I'm fine, thank you--” he starts to say, until Eustass hooks one big hand around his elbow and hauls him out of his seat. Law has to let himself be pulled to keep from stumbling to the floor, but he yanks his arm out of Eustass' grip as soon as he's standing solidly on his feet. He adjusts the sleeve of his jacket, he wants to start yelling at that _fucking idiot_ , but with a glance around he can see they're already attracting attention, so he decides the most dignified course of action now would be to just go along with Eustass' stupid scheme.

Eustass gives him a satisfied smirk and starts leading him back to his table. Law glares at Ace's amused face, Shachi's eyeroll, and Penguin's open look of horror, before he holds his head up and follows.

“I was actually enjoying myself until you stuck your ugly face in here,” Law mutters vehemently, “And it would have been salvageable had you not been determined to insert yourself into the middle of a conversation to which you were not invited just to aggravate me. And you nearly dislocated my shoulder, you animal.”

Eustass snorts, “Yeah yeah, you must be a real blast at parties, Doc.” He stops short at his table and his men look up, taking Law in disinterestedly. “This is the new doc, the one that patched me up last month after the Burgess job. Doc, this is Heat, and Wire.” He waves his hand vaguely towards the two, and if Ace hadn't clued Law in on their names earlier he doubted he would know which was which. Eustass grabs a nearby chair and pulls it over between him and Killer before taking up his original seat.

Law nods politely to Heat and Wire. “Hello.” Heat barely looks at him, only lifting his chin slightly in acknowledgment before taking another swig off his beer. Wire offers a small half-smile and raised eyebrows, “Hey.” Killer stays silent, obviously used to not getting involved in his capo's bullshit. Eustass shakes out a fresh cigarette from his pack and lets the awkward silence build as he lights up. 

“So, whatcha drinkin'? Wait, lemme guess. Martini. Red wine?” 

Law eyes the empty chair suspiciously before responding, “I left it at my table.”

“No worries, Killer'll get ya a new one. C'mon, sit down, socialize! That's what you're here for right? Just one drink and then you can run back to your little friends before you have to save that one in the hat from his heart attack. He never seen a gangster before, or what?”

Law sighs. Eustass was right unfortunately, he was here to socialize, and it didn't sound like he was going to get away without the man making a scene. It might be unpleasant but it also wouldn't hurt to be seen with the scariest bastards in the place. He sits down and Eustass positively beams.

“You're paying?” Law asks him.

“Yeah, of course. What'll it be?”

“Whiskey, then. Top shelf. Neat.”

Kid chuckles, “I didn't take you for a straight liquor kinda guy, Doc. I'm impressed.”

Law remains unimpressed.

“Killer, get another round too.” and Killer goes off to the bar to put in the order.

“You'll buy him top shelf, but the same old cheap shit for your own crew? That's some appreciation, boss.” Wire remarks, not annoyed just clearly entertained.

Eustass shrugs, “Hey, the doc here has high class tastes. If he drank this piss he'd wreck his sensitive palate, ain't that right?” he asks Law.

“I only want to wreck the wallets of the men who think paying for my drink buys them my time,” Law drawls.

Wire snorts and Kid gives a bark of laughter, “Ha! Sweet as always.”

Killer comes back with both hands full of bottles and Law's whiskey, setting the whole load down on the table before taking his seat. Law takes his glass and leans back in his chair to take a sip. The whiskey is surprisingly good—not as good as the stuff he drinks at home of course, but it was a far cry from the swill he was expecting the patrons around here to buy. It would be a crime to gulp it as fast as possible, so he stays at Kid's table a little longer than he originally intended.

Eustass is the most talkative (of course, the man doesn't shut up), and just because Law is doing him a favor by staying for a drink it doesn't stop him from trying to get a rise out of Law. Law doesn't mind as much, since it's far more entertaining to return the favor in front of Eustass' men, and whoever else happens to be listening in, instead of at the clinic where there's rarely an audience. Heat doesn't make a sound the entire time—he's even more stoic than Killer, which Law didn't think was possible—but Wire is actually quite clever, and seems pleased to join Law in ragging on Eustass' abominable qualities. 

They spend at least twenty minutes taunting each other, with Killer interjecting the rare wry observation, before Law finishes the last sip of his drink. He sets down the empty glass and stands up before Eustass can make any faux-innocuous demands like 'C'mon, just one more!'

“Thank you for the drink, Eustass. I should get back to my table now. Pleased to make your acquaintances, Wire, Heat,” he says, nodding to each of them. Killer gives him a small nod too, and Wire tips his beer in Law's direction. Heat doesn't look up but he hmm's noncommittally. It's the first sound Law has heard from him all night, so he takes it as a good sign. He faces Eustass last, bracing himself to withstand the whining and coercion he knows is coming.

“Yeah, see ya around Doc,” Eustass says, grinning behind the mouth of his beer bottle.

Law blinks, then turns on his heel and walks away before Eustass can come up with a new pretense to keep him there. Honestly, he was a little unsettled by getting let off the hook that easily. He was sure that Eustass usually put a bit more effort in than he did tonight, and that was almost...annoying. Which was absurd, because why would Eustass being less of a jackass than usual be annoying? 

Law has no idea how to unravel that knot and is forced to let it lie, and that in itself only adds to his irritation. He doesn't like thinking about Eustass during his free time. Or during his work hours. Really, he could do without Eustass Kid entirely, and there was no justice in the world if Eustass Kid could foist himself so insidiously into Law's life, without Law ever having done anything to deserve it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for all the comments and kudos! I smile like a dork whenever I get one of those emails. I am very glad you guys like it so far. 
> 
> By the way, I do not have any sort of medical or mafia expertise, I just google this shit, do not take it seriously and apologies if any of the unrealism disrupts your suspension of disbelief.

Eustass doesn't visit the clinic again over the weekend, and Law is left wondering if all he really wanted was to get Law to go out for one night. It couldn't possibly be as simple as that, Law thinks. Eustass had been a constant thorn in his side starting from the first time they met, he had taken obvious pleasure in showing up several nights a week to taunt Law with those little bribes and his smirking face. Eustass' absence makes his constant presence in Law's mind all the more grating, but he can't help attempting to unravel the man's reasoning, and try to predict his next move, because there had to be a next move coming and Law refused to be surprised by a shitty redheaded thug. 

No, he decided after days of deliberation, the next time he and Eustass met, he would be the one upsetting Eustass' balance, not the other way around. 

Unfortunately, despite Law's slightly dark intentions, circumstances did not provide him with such an opportunity.

Law gets a call at 5 A.M. one night, a few days after he came to his decision, still with Eustass nowhere to be found. He's at his apartment when his work phone rings, having left the clinic hours ago since it was a slow night. He's still awake of course, he rarely sleeps more than four hours a day, and some days not at all, drinking coffee (splash of cream, no sugar) and browsing through an online catalog of surgical supplies. A new line of ceramic scalpels was just released, guaranteed to be 3x sharper and less brittle than last year's model.

He glances at the caller ID and doesn't recognize the number, but picks up anyway since Whitebeard's men get into trouble all hours of the night and he's perpetually on call. 

“Hello, doctor speaking,” he answers.

“Doc, you need to come in, we're going to your office now. Heat's pretty fucked up.”

“Eustass?” It's definitely his voice, but with no trace of the usual teasing undertone. Eustass is all business tonight, and it sounds like he's in a car. “What's wrong with him?”

“Broken leg, maybe a concussion or something. Can you get here fast or do I need to send somebody by your place?”

“I'll be there in fifteen minutes. What's the location and severity of the break?” Law demands, slipping straight into crisis mode. He's already out of bed, shoving his feet through the jeans he dropped on the floor after he got home after work, and then jamming on the first pair of shoes he sees by the door. 

“Some idiot fucker had a crowbar, got him right under the knee. Shithead didn't have very good aim. There's no bones sticking out, but he can't walk.” Kid's tone is steely hard, he sounds pissed.

Law grabs his keys, though he almost forgets to lock his door and needs to double back for a minute before he heads down to the parking garage below his building, bypassing the elevator and taking the stairs three at a time. He does forget to bring a jacket, only armed with a loose t-shirt and shoes with no socks, but it doesn't occur to him that it's near freezing outside. 

“Keep the leg immobilized as much as you can, and part in the alley by the back door,” he orders on the way down the stairs.

“Yeah,” Kid says, then hangs up.

Law calls Shachi next to tell him to come in. It'd be best to have another pair of hands for this.

He makes record time and pulls up in the alley right behind Kid's car, or really Killer's since the blond is standing by the driver's door and Eustass is pacing on the other side. Eustass' expression is dark, eyes flashing, quietly seething around the cigarette he's practically inhaling. He breathes smoke out from his clenched teeth as Law approaches, looking a bit demonic, especially combined with the wild hair that isn't brushed back tamely as usual. Killer is stone-faced and rigid, leaning against the car, he doesn't spare a glance as Law reaches them, but Kid flicks his cigarette to the ground and stalks over. 

Kid jerks his thumb at the open rear door and Law looks in to find Heat laid out on the back seat, dead silent, but jaw clenched so tightly Law imagines he could hear the bones creaking if he leaned in close enough. Beads of sweat have popped up on his face, and Heat is keeping his breathing deliberately slow and controlled.

Law examines him quickly while Eustass stands and watches, checking the leg (it's pretty fucked up, Eustass wasn't lying) and for signs of shock and concussion, before he goes to unlock the back door of the clinic. He tells Eustass to follow, directing him to get a wheelchair and bring it out to the car, while Law unlocks the pharmaceuticals cabinet and loads a syringe with a hefty dose of morphine. No reason not to dope Heat up with the good stuff as soon as possible, bones might not be breaking the skin but a bashed up tibia was not a fun time.

Kid and Killer get Heat into the wheelchair, and Kid takes over wheeling him to the X-ray. The machine was probably over two decades old, but it still worked and Law knew how to use it so he wasn't complaining. The X-ray confirms a simple break that luckily missed the kneecap. 

Shachi arrives in time to help make the cast, and Law orders Kid and Killer to get the hell out of the way already. Killer goes out to the waiting room, but Eustass insists on staying with Heat in the exam room, taking up a post on the little chair in the corner and watching intently as Law and Shachi align, pad, and tape the leg in place before applying strips of wet plaster. It goes smoothly, Heat has already fallen into a doze from the effects of the morphine and the post-adrenaline rush. His leg will hurt a lot for a while, and he won't be able to walk without crutches for a few weeks until the bone heals, but Law is confident he will make a full recovery. 

Eustass doesn't leave Heat's side the entire time. As soon as the cast is finished he's out of his seat again to pace around, and Law has to yell at him twice to not smoke indoors when he tries to light up right there in the room. Law doesn't even think he's doing it to be an asshole, it seems like he just pulls out a cigarette without even thinking about it.

When Law and Shachi start cleaning up the supplies, Kid goes out to talk to Killer. Law can hear them discussing something heatedly in low tones, but can't make out the topic of conversation. Business, he assumes. When Killer leaves out the back, Eustass comes back in to sit with Heat and calls Wire to get clothes and other things from Heat's apartment and bring it over to his own, and to make sure there's clean sheets on the bed, and food, and beer in the fridge.

“Oh and I don't think I got anymore toothbrushes so make sure you get one of those too. Yeah, a new one damnit. You gonna remember all this, shit for brains? Repeat it back to me. Repeat it!” he barks over the phone.

Law hides a smirk. Now that the urgency of the situation has worn off, he can be amused by how Kid is acting just like a stressed out parent in the ER, though Eustass is a lot bigger and scarier looking than most parents. 

He sends Shachi home once everything is put away and the nurse heads out with a tired wave. Now he and Eustass are left in the exam room with a sleeping Heat, waiting for Killer to come back so Heat can be carted off to Kid's place with a handful of vicodin and a set of crutches. He watches Eustass flicking the top of his empty pack of cigarettes for a minute before he says as much to the redhead.

“You sure he can go? He's gonna be okay?” Eustass asks, still fiddling with the pack.

“Yes, he just needs to stay still and rest now.”

“Wouldn't it be better if he didn't have to be moved then? Maybe he should stay here.”

“That's not really necessary, it would be best if he were somewhere he could relax. I'll have patients in here again in a few hours.” Which Law was not looking forward to after a middle of the night emergency, but c'est la vie, there was no one else to take over for him anyway.

“You're sure?” 

“Yes, Eustass. Shall I write you a prescription for some xanax?”

Eustass scowled at him and crushed the empty pack in his fist before tossing it into the wastebasket, “Very funny, Doc. You're hilarious.” It seems as though he makes a conscious effort not to start pacing again. Instead he makes an abortive movement to get a cigarette before remembering he smoked the last one an hour ago and that Killer is supposed to be bringing him a new pack when he got back with the car. Eustass huffs.

Law observes him curiously. Eustass was far from his usual swaggering, over-confident self tonight. Law had never seen him so restless before, like he's still geared up for a fight, itching to tear something to pieces. He's clearly preoccupied.

“Something bothering you?” he asks, trying to sound casual. Kid shoots him a look like are you kidding? and Law wishes immediately he hadn't said anything.

“Don't worry about it,” is all Kid says, though he keeps looking at Law and his expression turns thoughtful. “You didn't bring a jacket, did you.”

Law blinks, it honestly hadn't occurred to him in the last few hours. He'd had too much on his mind to realize he was wearing just a t-shirt and it was in the 30s. He looks down at himself and plucks the thin material, he hadn't even bothered putting on his white lab coat either. It wasn't like he planned to be outside for any length of time, anyway.

“No, I forgot on the way over.”

“Gotta take better care of yourself, Doc.” 

“Says the man who went through a pack and a half of cigarettes in three hours,” Law retorts. 

Eustass sneers at him but it smooths out to a smirk, the first sign of good humor Law had seen all morning. He's oddly pleased by it. 

Twenty minutes later as Kid and Killer are wheeling Heat out the door, and as Law is looking forward to getting back to his coffee and a shower, Kid pulls him aside.

“Hey Doc, I was thinking. Maybe you could stop by to check up on Heat. See that he's doing ok, yeah?”

“You mean like a house visit?”

“Yeah exactly, that way he doesn't have to move and can focus on getting his leg unfucked. That'd be better, right?”

“Yes...but not entirely necessary.” Law says slowly.

“How about as a favor to me? Think about it Doc.” Eustass turns around and hops into the car where Killer is waiting, and they drive off.

Law watches them go and scrubs his hand over his face, scratching through the scruff on his chin. He needs a trim.

\---

Later that day he gets a text from Eustass, giving him an address and telling him to stop by whenever. Law is close to telling him to forget about it, but sighs and decides if he's not doing anything tomorrow he might as well go ahead and do it. It couldn't hurt to check up on his patient, either.

So around 9 A.M. the following morning, when all he's doing is lounging around on his couch reading a poorly written treatise on surgical trials, he remembers the text and gets up to get dressed. This time when he leaves he grabs a thick coat, more because he has a naturally low body temperature than because he doesn't want to get chastised again by Eustass, of all people. 

The address leads him to an apartment in a scruffy neighborhood. He knocks lightly on the door, sort of hoping that no one will answer and he can say he tried and just go back home, but Killer opens the door for him after a second. He takes in Killer's outfit, vaguely surprised that the slick gangster prefers to spend his off hours in a polka dotted silk shirt, but decides against commenting.

“So, are you all moving in?” he asks dryly instead. He gets the feeling that Killer would've rolled his eyes as he held open the door if he weren't too mature for that. 

“Alright, well where's my patient,” he continues after Killer deigns not to reply, walking into the apartment.

“Asleep in the bedroom, want to wake him up?”

“No, he could use the sleep more. Where's that overgrown brat of yours? I'm surprised he's not here to annoy me already, this is supposed to be his place, right?” Law looks around. The room is slightly run down, but appears clean, and the furnishings aren't shabby. A big black couch dominates the main area, settled in front of a plasma tv on the wall. Law tosses his coat over the back of the couch and helps himself to a seat without waiting to be asked. 

“He's in the shower.”

Kid walks out of one of the adjoining rooms on cue, from the bedroom Law presumes, wearing a white v-neck shirt, boxers, and nothing else. He's not wearing any eyeliner yet either, and his hair is still wet, sticking out in weird directions from being half-assed dried with a towel. He's scratching underneath his t-shirt at the dark red trail of hair that leads down his flat stomach into his boxers.

“Killer! I'm fucking starving, when—Oh, hey Doc.” He stops short by the couch and grins down at Law.

Cute. The word appears unbidden into Law's head. No, no no. That idiot was NOT cute. Infuriating, crude, arrogant, domineering, he was many qualities that Law despised. And he was not cute at all. 

“Good morning, Eustass,” Law says, disdainfully enough that Eustass raises a brow.

“Yeah, mornin'. Make yourself at home why don'tcha? Heat's still asleep. Hey, Killer was just going to run out for some breakfast, you want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“Really? Ok, how about some coffee?”

“...Coffee would be fine.”

“Great!” Kid continues into the kitchen, where Killer is sitting at the table with the paper. “Hey Killer, how about some fucking food? And coffee for the Doc, and—Hey Doc! What can Heat eat?”

“Anything he wants. If he's feeling nauseous from the vicodin I can give him an antiemetic,” Law says.

“Alright get him whatever then.”

Killer nods and folds up his paper, taking it with him before heading out the door. 

Eustass comes over and flops down on the other end of the couch, throwing one leg up onto the coffee table. Even his toenails are painted. 

“So is he like your manservant?” Law says to break the weird feeling he's getting from sitting around with Eustass in Eustass' apartment.

Kid chuckles, “Who, Killer? Nah, he just does stuff for me.”

“Your errands.”

“Whatever needs to be done. He's been with me a long time.”

“I'm surprised you found anyone who could put up with you for more than a month.”

“You got me there, Doc, but Killer is one of a kind. Pretty handy with a knife, too.”

They go quiet again, and Law studies the shelf of DVDs under the tv. Eustass has a complete collection of the Die Hard movies. 

“Ya know,” Eustass says, after a few moments silence, “I've always wondered where you got those two of yours. The nurse, and that one with the hat. They say you brought in your own people, how'd you find them?”

Law idly scratches the fabric of the couch with his thumb while he debates how to answer. Shachi and Penguin had been with him a long time, too, though it was only recently that they had gone into business together. To him they were both one of a kind; it was rare that Law found people in his life that he actually liked.

“They're my friends,” he admits, “Shachi and I worked the ER together while I was doing my residence, and Penguin was a year under me at university. We got close.” 

“Those their real names?” Eustass asks.

Law snorts, “Of course not, who names their son Penguin.”

“I wasn't born with the name Kid either, but it's as real a name as I've got, if you're wondering.”

Law hmm's vaguely. 

“Though I'll bet your name ain't really Doc either,” Eustass says. Law can hear the grin in his voice without having to look. 

“It's not, but I am really a doctor.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Thanks for the other night, by the way. It would've been a real mess without you. Before you started working for us, we had to use Shanks' doctor, and that was it's own load of bullshit like you wouldn't believe.”

Law glances over, caught off-guard by the turn in conversation, but Kid was cleaning his nails with a little switchblade he had pulled out from somewhere. 

“It was just work,” he says quietly in reply, watching Eustass run the tip of the blade deftly under each nail. He has nice hands, large but with good bone structure, something that Law always appreciated. Surgeon's habit. Or maybe he just liked a good set of hands.

He had seen Eustass with his shirt off before, so it wasn't like he was taken by seeing the man half dressed, but he hadn't really admired him then. Eustass had broad shoulders, and was tall, even taller than Law, who had been used to often being the tallest person in the room before he started working with hulking gangsters on a regular basis. His legs were long too, pale and muscled, with well defined calves and strong thighs that were barely covered by the dark gray boxers Kid was wearing. Law's gaze slipped over Kid's crotch for just a second before he snaps his focus back in front of him, hoping that Eustass hadn't somehow felt him looking. 

“Yeah well, work or not,” Eustass says, examining his nails, “You really helped us out. And you even came over here to check up on Heat. I owe you one, Doc.” 

“Don't worry about it,” Law mutters, trying not to belie his nonchalance by fidgeting. 

“I'm serious though,” Eustass continues, turning to face Law, “If you ever need something, I got it.” Law meets his eyes warily, decidedly uncomfortable with Eustass' frank offer. He's certain there's nothing he would ever need that Eustass could help him with, but it doesn't feel like a good time to brush him off with a snide remark, judging by how earnestly Eustass is looking at him. Also the man is currently armed with a knife. Not that Law is worried Eustass would hurt him, but it's just a good practice not to be rude to people holding knives.

“Thank you, Eustass. I'll remember that.”

“Good, you got my number. And my address too, heh. Jesus, how long does it take Killer to go to the fucking corner and back,” Eustass pushes himself off the couch and pads into the kitchen to yank open the fridge, and with that the surreal moment is over. 

Law exhales and sinks back into the cushions. He had been wondering the same thing, where the hell was his coffee? And when was Killer going to save him from being alone with Eustass? He had never appreciated the man's constant presence as much before this moment.

Kid bangs around in the kitchen, cursing under his breath to himself, before he gives up and goes back into the bedroom. Law can hear him rummaging around in there too, and he wonder how it's possible Heat is able to sleep though all of Eustass' racket. He pulls his phone out to check his email as a diversion, but that only takes a few minutes before he's done, and he slides it back into his pocket. 

Eustass reemerges, this time wearing a pair of raggedy jeans sagging low around his hips, and flops down on the couch again. 

He picks up a pack of cigs off the coffee table and lights one, smirking at Law's grimace. “Hey, I follow your rules at your place but my place allows smoking.”

“It's an unhealthy habit.”

“Well I'm not a very healthy guy, Doc.” Eustass replies, tilting his head back to blow a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. 

“When's the last time you had a physical, I wonder.”

Kid snorts, “Hell if I know, maybe when I was a kid?”

Law leans towards him a little, interest piqued, “Really, that's very irresponsible considering your lifestyle. Why don't you get one done?”

“Never go, I hate doctors. No offense.”

“None taken,” Law says truthfully, “Come in next week, I'll see to it.”

“Jeez, are you serious? I don't want a damn physical.”

“Don't be a child, it won't hurt.” Law teases. This was fun already.

“I'm not afraid it's going to hurt, I just don't need that bullshit.” Eustass growls.

“It's not bullshit, Eustass. Now I'm beginning to take offense.” He could have felt bad about manipulating Eustass, but it was so easy. Also the man was a pest and deserved it.

“Fine, fine! I'll come in. Just shut the fuck up about it.” Eustass huffs and leans forward to smash out the butt of his cigarette in the waiting ashtray.

Law rolls his eyes, that really was too easy, and starts toying with the zipper on his coat, thinking that he wouldn't mind giving his own nails a good clean, when Killer returns with food and coffee. 

“Finally! I thought I was gonna die of fuckin' hunger up here,” Kid says, jumping off the couch and grabbing a take-out box from Killer before he has a chance to make it to the kitchen. Law stands up much more gracefully and accepts a styrofoam cup, trading a long-suffering look with Killer. 

He doesn't bother asking for milk for the coffee and sips it slowly, it was even pretty good, sitting at the small kitchen table with Killer and Kid as they shoveled eggs, potatoes, and bacon. It was strange, he really hadn't expected to start his day by breaking bread with these two. A few weeks ago he couldn't have thought of anything he would've rather done less than spend time his personal time with Kid and Killer, yet like that night at the bar it wasn't that bad. Eustass was amiable with his men, even if Killer didn't say much in reply to Eustass' constant stream of conversation, and it made the atmosphere comfortable. Law felt free to drink his coffee in peace. 

When Kid finished his plate, he grabs the last container, “I think it's time for that mangy motherfucker to wake up. C'mon Doc, you can check him.”

Law sets down his cup and follows Kid back into the bedroom, finding Heat already awake and sitting up.

Kid smirks and holds out the take-out box to him, “Woke up and smelled the bacon, didn'tcha? Eat up, you look like shit.” 

Heat accepts the food and a fork with a nod, and flips the box open to dig in. 

Law stands just inside the door, not exactly eager to trespass into Eustass' room, but Kid waves him in and he approaches the side of the bed.

“Are you nauseous?” he asks. Heat shakes his head. “Feeling pain?” Heat nods, chewing off a bite of bacon. “Did you take any of the pain medication after you woke up?” Law gestures to the bottle of pills on the nightstand, Heat shakes his head. “Take one after you eat, and another in four hours, then one every six hours as needed. Are you dizzy at all? Thoughts muddled? Foggy?” Heat shakes his head twice.

“Alright that's good, you probably don't have a concussion, but symptoms can appear several days after the injury, so if you experience anything unusual please get in touch and I will reassess your condition.” Law turns to Eustass, “Or if you notice anything. Otherwise I'm giving him a clean bill of health.”

Eustass smiles, hooking a thumb in the pocket of his jeans, “Okay Doc.”

Law gives him a tight smile in return before leaving.

\---

Eustass drops by the clinic several times with updates on Heat, who moved back to his own apartment after two days of being mothered over by Eustass and Killer. Law suspects Heat got tired of that treatment quickly. Once Law is satisfied that Heat is progressing well, he turns his attention to his next patient.

Eustass takes a little more convincing before Law can get him to actually come into the exam room for his promised physical. He suspects Eustass hoped Law had simply forgotten about it. Law has to resort to threats of defamation and libel before the man finally relents with a huge sigh that could have come from any teenager. He ushers Eustass from the waiting room with great ceremony that goes unappreciated. 

Law begins with the usual procedure, taking Eustass' weight and height (an impressive 6'6”), calculating his BMI and body fat % (another impressive figure), and relating the results to Eustass with professional aplomb. 

Next is the lifestyle questionnaire. Law sits down and flips open Eustass' file and begins asking the regular questions about drug and alcohol use, and Eustass' answers are predictably hedonistic, which he seems to take pride in. 

Of course the real fun comes from the sexual history section. Since Eustass isn't used to seeing doctors, Law feels free to take some liberties that some would say blurred the line of professional ethics. Kid has it coming to him.

“When did you lose your virginity?”

Eustass grins at him and leans back, “Well Doc, lemme try to think that far. Maybe I was fourteen?”

“And how many sexual partners have you had in the last six months?”

“Hmm these are tough questions,” Eustass thinks for a moment, “I dunno, should I guess?”

“A general estimate will suffice.” Law says coolly.

“Ten? Twenty? I don't really keep track ya know.”

“I hope you're using protection, Eustass. Do I need to teach you how to use a condom?”

Eustass snickers, “Sure if you want to demonstrate.”

Law raises an eyebrow, “I'll take that as a no. How often do you masturbate?”

“Is that really a question? You're fucking with me.” Eustass says. 

“I assure you this is for the good of your health.”

Eustass shifts around in his seat, and Law keeps his face straight, but internally he's smiling vindictively.

“Well I dunno, every now and then.”

“Really Eustass, please be honest, your health is more important than your pride. I am a medical professional, consider this room free of judgment of your deviancy.”

Eustass smirks at him, “Yeah I bet. I don't remember, next question.”

“What is your refractory period?” Eustass looks at him blankly, “How soon you can become erect after orgasm.”

“Why don't we go back to my place and I'll show you?” Kid says, openly leering.

Law snaps the file folder shut with a flick of his wrist, “If you won't take this seriously, let's just move onto the physical exam.” He stands up and pats the flimsy paper covering the exam table, “Please undress, except for your underclothes.”

Eustass' face drops into a pout, but he stands as well and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Normally Law would leave the room to give his patient some privacy, Eustass is not so lucky. Law crosses his arms and watches contemptuously. Rock-hard abdominals and rippling pectorals? What a cliché. Eustass toes out of his shoes and unbuckles his belt, not seeming the least put off by an audience. He drops his pants and tosses them over the chair with his shirt, left standing in just his shorts. They're black today. He grins cheekily at Law and strikes a pose, flexing, “See Doc? Peak of physical perfection here. Nice, right?”

Law rolls his eyes, “You know, you're not really helping to dispel the stereotype that gangster are musclebound meat heads. Take a seat.”

Eustass hops up onto the table, grinning at full wattage. He does make a nice picture, a two hundred pound side of beef sitting around in his skivvies on Law's exam table. Eustass picks up on the admiration and preens, curling a bicep, “Wanna touch?”

“No, thank you. Do you spend literally all day at the gym? Now I see why you never wear ties, they must not fit around your neck.” Law takes a stethoscope and stands at his side to press it against Eustass' bare chest, “Take two deep breaths.”

Eustass obeys quietly, and Law repeats the procedure on his back. Next he checks his eyes and ears, then jams a tongue depressor into his mouth when Eustass tries to make lascivious wiggling motions with his tongue. He decides he likes that method for making Eustass shut up, the man was even better looking when his mouth wasn't running.

“Alright,” he declares, stepping back and tossing the depressor into the wastebin, “Everything looks normal.” He gets out a pair of latex gloves and snaps them on, turning back to Eustass with a malicious smirk. “Now all that's left is the prostate exam.”

Eustass' grin withers instantly into something that could be interpreted as shock.

“What?! Are you fucking serious, I thought that was just on sitcoms and shit!”

Law schools his face into clinical indifference, “I'm afraid not Mr. Eustass, this procedure is necessary for checking the health of your rectum and prostate.”

Eustass blanches, and Law imagines his asshole has gone tighter than Fort Knox. Neither of them move, and he lets Eustass simmer for a few long seconds before he smiles slyly, “Just a joke, Eustass. Give it another twenty years.” He allows himself a laugh as Eustass mutters something about no one ever finding Law's body.

“But do remove your shorts, I'll need to palpate those testes.”

“Ha ha, Doc. I'm not falling for it twice.”

“On the contrary Eustass, this is normal procedure. Oh, and please stand.” 

He sighs as Kid continues to protest, though Kid does slide off the exam table and eventually drops his shorts, standing up straight with his arms crossed and his sneer daring Law to say something.

Law gives him a bored look before he looks down, “Please Mr. Eustass, I am a professional. Ah, so that is your natural hair color.” 

Eustass grumbles, entirely unamused, but falls abruptly silent when Law's gloved hand cups between his legs.

Law feels a little muted himself as he gives Eustass' testicles a healthy squeeze. Whatever he had imagined Eustass was hiding in his shorts was vastly outdone by reality, the man was well hung. Law had a bit of a weakness for cock—that is to say, he was a slut for nice big thick cocks—and Eustass' had those qualities in spades. 

Kid is looking everywhere but at Law, scowling like the devil himself while Law gives his package a thorough groping. Eustass is deliciously hot and heavy even while soft, and Law has to remind himself that it isn't considered appropriate doctor-patient conduct to get on your knees and start sucking in the middle of an examination. He keeps the fondling on the brusque and clinical side, but it still makes his mouth water. 

“I suppose this,” he says with another squeeze, letting a velvety undertone creep into his voice, “might be considered compensation for what's missing in your head,” and has to hide a smirk when he can actually feel Kid's dick twitch in his hand. He can only admire Eustass' considerable self-control. 

“Could you shut the fuck up with the running commentary and get your freezing cold hands off my junk already, huh?” Eustass growls.

Law smirks, but with one last squeeze he lets go and allows Kid to get dressed again. 

Eustass waits until he's buttoning up his shirt before he speaks up again. If Law didn't know better, he would think Eustass was feeling a bit shy.

“So Doc, what's the verdict?”

Law is making notes on Eustass' chart and doesn't look up to reply, “Healthy as a horse, and just as big. But you should smoke less, drink less, and stop using illegal drugs. You might also consider a less hazardous line of work.”

Eustass snorts, “I didn't need a damn physical to hear that.”

“It is what's known as preventative care, Eustass. Do I need to explain the concept?”

“Yeah, yeah, more like a big waste of my goddamn time. If I knew you were gonna get to second base I would've made you take me out to dinner first.”

Law chuckles, “Get out of my clinic, Eustass, I'm done with you for today.”

Eustass grumbles and postures some more, but soon enough he's out the door, leaving Law alone in the exam room. 

Law keeps grinning as he fills out the rest of his files.

\---

That night, after he sees a few more patients, then locks up the clinic and heads home, he lays in bed and thinks of what it would have been like to have dropped to his knees in front of Eustass and take that beautiful heavy cock into his mouth, wondering how it would feel when it was hard. He pulls himself off while imagining that Eustass would be rough and eager, grabbing his hair and fucking into his mouth, and when he comes he's thinking of looking up through his lashes at Kid's sharp smirk and having big hands settled possessively on the back of his head.

He reassures himself that there's no reason not to get some enjoyment from a fine male specimen, but it's a half-hearted attempt at best. Law has enjoyed men plenty of times before, picking them up in clubs for a pleasant one-off, dating men that could be Calvin Klein underwear models, though the relationships never lasted more than a few months. He kept his preferences discrete and short-term not out of shame but just because that was how he functioned. Law knew he was not immune to the charms of good looking men, and that wasn't the problem. 

The problem was that Eustass was work, he was part of the world that Law didn't want to get entangled by. The fact that Law had acted in a way that would only deepen his attraction to someone in that world was troubling, but he had justified it as getting Eustass back for all the harassment he had put up with from the man, and he could convince himself that it was well deserved payback. And if he got more out of it than Eustass might expect... well, that was just a perk of the job.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter is a little flashback to how Law got involved in the mob business in the first place, hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Ultra special extra thanks to Grey / therealslimshady for their fabulous artwork from the first chapter! Please check it out, http://pastamachine.tumblr.com/post/92869152497/if-everyone-in-the-room-hadnt-been-so-distracted

Five months ago Law's life changed drastically. 

He was just an average internationally acclaimed cardiac surgeon. And he was bored. Very, extremely, dangerously bored.

The only time he could really do whatever he wants was when he's deliberately avoiding his 'real life,'  
otherwise he's consumed by business dinners and schmoozing with hospital directors or whatever other scheme his father has cooked up to improve his career.

He often got the feeling that his life had been planned out to the last detail, and he was only there to act out the part.

Even his rebellious phase, if that's what you could call it, seemed to follow a script. Tattoos, some piercings, a lukewarm attempt at differentiating himself from others' expectations. His parents were apoplectic, but it amounted to almost nothing in the end. Whenever he mingled in polite society he had to leave the earrings at home and keep the ink covered.

So when any chance to escape his life appeared, he grabbed it with both hands. Sometimes the impulse led to him making so-called bad decisions, which explains why his closest friends have absolutely no worthwhile social status. His parents would be appalled if they knew he was mingling with the lower classes. He liked to imagine their reactions sometimes, just for entertainment purposes.

It all turned abruptly around on one of the nights that Law chose to blow off his social obligations to unwind. He was out with his favorite nurse, Shachi, one of the few people he might actually want to call his friends, walking the few blocks from the bar back to Shachi's tiny studio apartment. 

It happened to be one of those stifling hot muggy nights that he loathes, summer's last shot at making the people suffer. They had decided to go out, even though Law hates going out, because the bar down the street was the closest place with a working air conditioner unit, and Law wasn't ready to let a late summer heat wave drive him back to his lifeless penthouse.

Apparently everyone else in the neighborhood had the same idea, and the bar had been packed, but they spent a slightly-less-than-completely-miserable few hours drinking cold beer and enjoying the indoors. By the time it had cooled off enough outside to consider leaving it was already well past midnight, and Law had imbibed enough to feel pleasantly relaxed. He strolled along beside Shachi, neither of them in any hurry to get back to Shachi's cramped and stuffy apartment, and the nurse continued his well-worn rant about “those shithead interns” that he had started before they even left the bar.

Law was only half listening, since Shachi never needed any input once he had a few drinks and got going on everything and everyone that was a piece of shit at work. He already knew Law agreed wholeheartedly. 

Besides the occasional car the street was mostly empty, and his attention meandered over crumbling curbs and dim street lights while he considered how many more hours he could put off returning home.

Two shots fired into the night, followed by a third after a beat, shattering the quiet and Law's inner calm all within seconds. He and Shachi froze in place on the sidewalk.

“That was-”

“Fucking shit-”

They both start to exclaim before being drowned out by squealing tires that were so loud they could only be from the next avenue over.

Shachi recovered first, his EMT training kicking straight into high gear, and he took off in the direction of the commotion at a dead sprint. Law found himself chasing after him before his brain could catch up with a plan of action, instantly sobered from the spiking adrenaline but acting on pure reflex. 

He rounded the corner of an alleyway that Shachi had disappeared into, and had to take a moment just to comprehend the scene in front of him.

Shachi was on his knees on the grimy concrete in front of the biggest hulk of a man Law had ever encountered in person. If the man hadn't been wearing pants and a suit jacket— _who on earth was his tailor_ , Law thought inanely—he would have assumed they had just stumbled across the botched drive-by poaching of a 400 lb Congolese gorilla.

And the oddities did not end at his sheer size. The man's hair was long, black, and wild, spilling down his back and overgrown into sideburns that tufted out from either side of a heavy jaw, in a style that could only be called a mane. His face was terrifying, even while knotted in agony, with shaved off eyebrows replaced by black flame tattoos. The stranger looked outright fiendish, and that was not a term Law often used after his residency in the trauma unit. 

However, it was hard to take the time to be intimidated when there was work to be done.

Shachi was already administering first aid to one of two apparent sustained gunshot wounds. As Law's brain caught up with the rest of him, Shachi was applying pressure to the man's thigh, clearly the more serious injury than the shallow wound seeping blood on his side. 

As medical professionals they were legally required to summon the authorities in this sort of situation, but from his appearance alone it was obvious that this beast of a man did not walk on the right side of the law. Of course Law was not normally one to stereotype, but facial tattoos generally spoke for themselves. Anticipation that he hadn't felt in years, maybe not ever, was stirring in his gut, and his mind was cycling with the possibilities.

So he only watched imperiously as Shachi staunched the bleeding and murmured assurances to the victim. It spoke volumes of his tenacity that the man was still conscious, despite almost certainly having a bullet lodged in his leg and another graze wound on his ribcage where the second shot had miraculously only touched him. An inch or so to the left and they would be dealing with a sucking lung wound, and the stranger's prospects would have been much dimmer. 

He had to hand it to Shachi; the nurse was more competent during a crisis than most military doctors. Calm under pressure, deft, confident, all skills that he couldn't have picked up solely during his stints as an EMT and ER staff. Those talents were exactly what made Law take notice of the ex-EMT in the first place, but he still never failed to be impressed when he watched Shachi in action.

He was able to slow the bleeding within a minute with literally no equipment besides his own two bloody hands and the victim's belt cinched tight over the femoral artery.

“The bullet is embedded,” Shachi said tightly.

Law nodded absently, having already reached that conclusion. 

“We can extract it at your apartment,” he said in reply, as if it were an obvious conclusion and not a wildly inappropriate—and highly illegal—suggestion. 

Shachi must have detected the eager undercurrent in his voice, and was understandably wary, “My place? You're not calling an ambulance?”

At the mention of ambulance, the beast of a man stirred and groaned, “No cops, just- just call--” but he couldn't seem to articulate who to call.

Shachi's gaze flicked between the victim on the ground and Law, standing in the mouth of the alley. His eyes said “Are we seriously doing this?” but his mouth was pressed in a grim line, already dedicated to following Law's completely absurd plan.

“Well then,” Law said, sliding a hand through his hair. His pulse was thrumming in his veins, and he was much more excited than afraid. He pulled in a shallow breath and took out his phone, pressing the key to speed dial the only other person he could trust to follow him without question. 

“Penguin, are you still at the hospital? Good. I need you to bring me some things...” and he rattled off a list of emergency supplies. Sterile gauze, all the trappings for an intravenous setup with antibiotics, coagulants, and plenty of opioids, tweezers and needles fresh from the hospital's autoclave. The morphine would be the riskiest item to procure, being a controlled substance, but the pharmacist should have no trouble adjusting the records to make a small amount vanish from the hospital's supply. 

Law ended the call. He had the vague idea that his hands should be shaking, but years of precision on the operating table guaranteed that his hands never shook. An unfamiliar feeling was filling him up, spreading out from deep in his chest.

 _Oh_ , he thought. _This is going to be fun_.

\---

Luckily the man was still awake enough to hobble along as Law and Shachi each got one of his huge arms around their shoulders, because Law was pretty sure there was no way this beast could fit in the back of his Lexus. They half-dragged him around the corner and down the last block and a half to Shachi's apartment building. It took twenty minutes for them to haul him up two flights of stairs, and Law could only thank god that by then it was three in the morning and no one else in the building seemed to be awake.

By the time they managed to make it into the safety of Shachi's room, all three of them were streaked with blood and exhausted. The stranger was mostly unconscious and they had to spend another five minutes shoving and pulling him onto the bed.

“You're buying me new sheets,” Shachi complained as he cut away the man's shirts and pants with a pair of utility scissors. “And a new mattress. This was the worst idea.” More blood was already smearing everywhere.

Law smirked at him from where he was scrubbing his hands in the kitchen sink. He was in an excellent mood, and it was only his impeccable self-control that prevented him from bouncing on the balls of his feet.

There was a knock on the door before he could reply, and they both went completely still for a moment. Law turned off the faucet, and Shachi dropped the scissors and stealthily crossed the room to check the peephole.

“It's Penguin,” he announced with relief, and opened the door the bare minimum to allow the other in. “Hey man, glad you could join us in Dr. Crazy's shittiest operating theater.”

Penguin slid through the doorway. He was wearing jeans and a scrub shirt, with his hat pulled down low over his eyes, and was carrying a backpack that Law assumed held all the supplies stolen from the hospital.

“Yeah sure, so will one of you fill me in on what the hell is going on now?” Penguin said, clearly annoyed that Law had refused to tell him anything over the phone, but he immediately spotted the huge body spread over Shachi's bed and stopped dead. “What the fuck?”

Law stepped around Shachi, hands held up to avoid touching anything. “Please tell me you remembered to bring gloves,” he said, fully intending to circumvent the part where he was supposed to explain himself. At the very least Penguin wouldn't demand any answers until after the patient was stabilized. 

Penguin blinked at him, then silently dug into the bag, pulled out a fresh box of latex gloves, and tore it open before he offered it to Law. 

Law snapped on a pair and turned on his heel, going over to the mystery gunshot victim. “Shachi, sterilize the superficial injury and then set up the IV. Let's start with the average dosages for a 230 lb adult male and work from there, but don't skimp on the painkillers. Penguin, please get the instruments ready. I'll begin on the bullet entry wound now.” They quickly moved to obey his directions. Law had a particular brand of self-assurance that gave him absolute control in any operating room, even when that operating room happened to be his friend's cramped studio apartment.

Once the procedure was underway it was easy for them to slip into the flow of it, despite the less than ideal setting. Penguin balanced the tray of scalpels and rods and tweezers on Shachi's dresser, and Shachi managed to hang the IV off one of his clothes hangers. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to niggle out the bullet, still in one piece, from where it had buried into the muscle and then stitch and dress the wound. It was all over before Law was really ready to stop working. The thrill of doing something so far outside of the highly controlled and regulated hospital environment wasn't even close to fading. 

Law stepped back and peeled off his gloves, watching over as Shachi applied the last of the bandages. He checked the IV again, and decided to add another dose of penicillin just because it seemed like Shachi hadn't dusted in a while. 

The stranger had stayed completely out of it during the entire operation, in no small part due to the elephantine dose of morphine and sedatives they had administered. Law studied him carefully. Penguin hadn't brought any hospital gowns and Shachi was a third of the size of the guy and had absolutely no clothes that would fit, so they would just have to leave him in the underwear that he had come in with, his pants and shirt having been cut off of him an hour ago. He really was an ugly son of a bitch, but Law was quite intrigued. 

“Where are his things?” he asked abruptly. Penguin started from where he had been dozing off on the couch, and Shachi looked up from checking the fit of the bandages. 

“I put them all on the chair,” Shachi jerked his thumb at one of the kitchen chairs that had been dragged over. Law shamelessly rummaged through all the pockets of the bloody, cut up clothes, and uncovered a cellphone, wallet, keys, and handgun. He deposited the gun disdainfully on the laminate counter, before rifling through the wallet, which revealed a substantial amount of cash, a few credit cards, and a driver's license for one Jean H. Bart. Law glanced over at the giant currently sprawled over Shachi's bloodstained bed. The sneering picture did seem to match. 

Law sent Penguin home with profuse thanks, and he and Shachi took turns napping on the couch and watching over their strange patient. Neither of them wanted to find themselves alone with the man when he finally woke up, and Shachi kept one of his kitchen knives close by.

None of it was necessary, in the end. Mr. Bart woke up shortly before noon and was soft-spoken and very appreciative, though slightly confused as to where he was. Law explained what had happened the night before and how they had found and brought him to the apartment for treatment, before introducing himself as only “a doctor” and Shachi as “a nurse” who were only interested in being good samaritans and were not particularly inclined to turn victims into the police. 

Bart raised an eyebrow at that but didn't ask any questions, besides where his phone was. 

It turned out his phone had run out of battery overnight, so Law gave him his own phone to borrow while Bart called one of his associates. Half an hour later someone knocked at the door and Shachi checked the peephole.

“Holy shit, no way!” he said, before opening the door wide. “Bepo! Hey man, how've you been!”

Law watched, dumbfounded, as another huge man stepped into the apartment. This one wasn't quite as tall as Bart, and he had snow white hair. Bepo, apparently, seemed skittish as Shachi tugged him farther into the room. “I haven't seen this kid since high school! I guess the rumors were true, you started working for the mob? That's crazy! Oh, this is--” Law gave Shachi a sharp look as soon as he realized the nurse was about to introduce him, and Shachi took the hint, “Uh, this is a doctor I work with. Anyway, small world, huh?” Bepo glanced over at Law, and then at Bart, before giving Shachi a little shrug, “Um... yeah.”

Bepo had brought a small duffel bag with some new clothes for Bart, who slid them on with a little difficulty. Then he makes some calls off of Bepo's phone, while Law and Shachi politely pretended not to listen. Jean isn't ready to start walking around just yet, so after Shachi changes the sheets on the bed (stuffing the old ones intro the trash with a not-so-quiet “ew”), he settles back down for another few hours of recuperation. 

Shachi had to leave for his shift at the hospital, Law waved him away when he tries to suggest taking the day off, and Bepo left with a quiet promise to come back at six o'clock.

“So,” Jean said, once they're alone, “How much do I owe you for the treatment?”

Law shook his head, “Like I said, we're just a pair of good samaritans. No payment necessary.”

“I'm afraid I must insist,” Jean replied, “My family doesn't like to be in debt.”

Law settled back into his chair, watching Jean thoughtfully, “I don't want money, but you could answer a few questions for me, if you would be so kind.”

Jean considered him for a moment, then nods.

Law leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “Was last night a drug deal?”

“No, that was just a little altercation. No drugs.” Jean said.

“What is it your family does then?”

“Loans, mostly. Solving people's money problems.”

“Does that usually carry such a high risk?”

Jean chuckled, “You ask a lot of questions for a doctor. You know, my boss values people with your kind of skills and discretion, you could do real well for yourself working for him.”

Law sat up, that was exactly what he had been driving at, but he didn't want to seem too eager or it might put Jean off, “I don't think--”

Jean interrupted him, holding up a huge hand, “Take some time to think it over. If you're interested in doing some more off-the-books work, with appropriate compensation of course, just give me a call.”

“Right, I'll think about it,” Law said.

He didn't have to think about it, his mind was already made up before Bepo returned to help Jean downstairs and out to the waiting car. He didn't tell Jean yet of course, merely sent him off with fresh gauze, bandages, and a prescription bottle full of oxycodone.

He told Shachi and Penguin about the offer the next day, and predictably they freaked out, but only for a few minutes. They couldn't believe he would consider working for criminals, and he can't believe they would expect him to pass up such a golden opportunity. How often does a world-class surgeon cross paths with a mobster? It was truly a once in a lifetime event. 

Eventually he convinces them that it's a great idea, he's always been persuasive, but they take it upon themselves to help him out by “keeping an eye on him.” Shachi would stay with him on a daily basis, and Penguin said he would be more comfortable handling things on the hospital front. Law was a bit perturbed they thought he couldn't take care of it all on his own, but he was impressed by their loyalty. He had to thank his lucky stars that he had at least two people who wanted to watch out for him no matter what.

A few days later he called back Jean Bart, ostensibly to check up on his condition, but eventually they got around to discussing the offer and Law drops hints that he's interested in learning more. He met up with Jean in some craphole diner, discretely passed him a new bottle of oxys, and they talked.

Jean asked him where he's getting the drugs, and Law explains the system he worked out with Penguin. Law asked Jean shrewd questions about what he could expect from the family business, and Jean answers faithfully while skirting around the exact details. He seemed to like Law, and near the end of the meeting he slid a fat envelope across the table. Law opened it and looked in, it appeared to be at least $10,000 in a neat little bundle.

“Don't worry, it's all clean,” Jean said. “My boss really appreciates you doing all this for me. Have you made a decision about taking on more work? He'll make it worth your while.” 

Law put the envelope back on the table, “I don't need money, what else can your people give me?”

Jean smiles conspiratorially, “You're a pretty smart kid, aren'tcha? We can get you whatever you want: drugs, sex, weapons if that's your thing. Exotic animals, 'lost' original artwork, VIP access anywhere, shit you can't find anywhere else in this city. So, interested?”

Yes, Law was definitely interested. He didn't need any of that stuff either, but he wanted in no matter what. 

Jean said he would have to set up a meeting so that Law could be introduced to the director of operations for the organization. Law took the money in the end, just to be polite, and left Jean at the diner, to wait on his phone call.

\---

Jean called him a week later, giving him an address in the warehouse district and telling him to be there at 4 o'clock the next day. Law showed up ten minutes early, dressed his best in a light gray suit and black tie and looking damn sexy if he did say so himself. Shachi insisted he go with him, as backup or a body guard Law didn't quite know, and they met Jean and Bepo outside of a rundown manager's office.

Jean indicated that only Law was to follow him inside, so Shachi waited reluctantly out front with Bepo while Law entered the building.

He was led to a small conference room in the back of the office, to find three men already waiting for him. Law wasn't sure if it was normal to require so many people just to approve a new doctor, but he wasn't about to question it in such a serious atmosphere. It was tense. Jean introduces him to Crocodile, the family's underboss, who was representing the boss' interests.

Law is almost giddy. While Jean looked like your everyday thug, Crocodile looked like a genuine mafioso straight out of The Godfather: cigar clamped between straight white teeth, a hardcore scar right across his face, hair slicked back and an expensive suit with a silk tie. He had look that said “you are shit on the sole of my $2000 Armani wingtip,” and Law is hit with the sensation that this is the real deal. Crocodile was obviously rich, powerful, and oozing danger; a man that would gain absolutely nothing from putting up with any shit from a rich brat, no matter who that brat's daddy is. 

Crocodile gestured across the table, “Please have a seat,” and Law accepted the only chair left, acting completely at ease despite the tension emanating from the three mobsters. Jean poured him a drink and stays standing off to the side. Law took a sip, and used his high society upbringing to maintain precise control. 

“Thank you for meeting with me today,” he said politely.

Crocodile didn't accept his thanks. “Let me introduce my associates. This is Marco, Jean's capo.” A sleepy-eyed guy who was slouching his seat, head shaved aside from a small plume of beach blond hair and dressed in a midnight blue suit nods at Law. A gold-plated lighter appears in his hand and he lights a cigarette with a deft flick of his fingers.

“And to my right is Daz Bones, another of our capos.”

Daz Bones was another huge man, with dark tan skin and massive shoulders, and light colored hair cropped close to his skull, who sat still and impassive in his charcoal gray suit and skinny black tie. He gave no indication that he noticed Law existed.

“We must thank you again for the care you provided in Jean's time of need. He has informed us that you might be interested in a long term position in our organization, as we are currently short on medical expertise. I have a few questions for you on behalf of our boss, Whitebeard, if you don't mind.” Crocodile said, introductions at an end.

“Of course,” Law acquiesced graciously. This was the most interesting job interview he had ever had. And also the first one where he wasn't one hundred percent certain he would get the job.

What followed was a brief series of questions and answers where Crocodile felt out whether Law is a tool that the Whitebeard family can use. Law answered as succinctly and confidently as possible, and tried to refrain from coming across as too arrogant. He kept his hands on the table, occasionally taking a sip of the scotch in his glass, and met Crocodile's eyes unflinchingly.

Crocodile seemed satisfied with his responses. “I will consult with the Boss, but it seems we may be able to arrange something. Do you have any questions?”

Law threaded his fingers together, this was the part that made him nervous.

“I have some conditions. I can prove I am a board certified surgeon and medical doctor, but I have a public reputation to maintain, so I must insist that my identity remain strictly confidential. Also I will need to have maximum control over my work, so I would like to use my own people as assistants and to obtain the necessary supplies. However, I will need you to provide me with a workspace, something that can accommodate a file system and an adequate examination room. If these terms are acceptable then I am amenable to any other reasonable arrangements.” 

Crocodile regarded him with the flat reptilian stare of his namesake, cigar burning steadily in his teeth. Law could feel Jean shifting nervously at the side, or maybe his bullet holes were starting to hurt. Daz Bones is glaring at him like he wanted to bore holes through Law's skull. Only Marco seemed completely relaxed; he blinked lazily.

Law had spent a long time on equal footing with powerful men, so being assertive in front of a mob underboss came more easily than it might have otherwise. He met Crocodile's stare with a look that conveyed one hundred percent confidence that his conditions are reasonable and deserved. For the most part he really was confident, but there is, however, the unavoidable doubt that he had crossed a line and any second he was about to get kneecapped for his insolence. He was not sure exactly how much provocation was required for that.

“I believe we can work with that,” Crocodile said finally, and stood so that he can look down his nose disparagingly at Law from across the table. Law stood as well and smiles, waiting for his next cue. Crocodile blows out a cloud of cigar smoke and slid his hands into his pockets, “We'll be in touch.” With that he walks out of the room, with Daz Bones following close behind. Marco trails out after them after a beat, fiddling with his phone and completely ignoring Law.

After going toe to toe with those three, Jean Bart didn't seem so scary at all. Jean assured him that the meeting went well as he escorted Law back to the entrance, and that he should expect a call within the next few days. He and Bepo went off their own way, and Shachi demands all the details of the meeting on the ride back into the city. Law played it like it wasn't a big deal, but under his skin he was practically vibrating with anticipation and apprehension. The encounter was a damn thrill, and he could certainly see himself running with that crowd, wearing sharp suits every day and in the company of lethal accomplices.

\---

True to Jean's word, he got a call on the new phone he bought just for work three days later.

“Dr. Trafalgar,” a deep drawl greeted him.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the sound of his name, “Yes?”

“This is Marco, we met the other day.”

“Ah.. hello,” he said. Of course Marco would be one of the people entrusted with his real identity.

“I'm calling to give you the location to your new clinic. One of my men can meet you there tomorrow afternoon to give you more details, if that's convenient?” Marco asked.

“Yes, of course.” Marco then gave him an address and a time to show up to get the information on how the clinic was to be run. 

He brought Shachi with him again just because he's not sure exactly what he's getting into, and shows up on a weekend afternoon at a grungy storefront, sandwiched between a laundromat and a Vietnamese takeout restaurant. 

Marco's man turned out to be one Portgas D. Ace, a cheerful guy with a perpetual cheeky grin, who was a stark contrast with the oppressively serious air of his higher ups. Ace gave him the keys, and all the details on what records Whitebeard expected him to keep, what he needed to know about the fraudulent permits, and what to do if the cops showed up. Law was set up with an entire private medical clinic front. The finances are fudged, and they don't accept any new patients. Along with some licensing and permit magic the clinic is rendered invisible to the law and the public, but Law can still use it to order medical supplies all under the guise of being a legitimate clinic. 

The building was old but in acceptable condition, and Law was impressed that it actually has a nice office and pair of exam rooms. Ace informed him that it was the location of the family's previous doctor, who was mysteriously 'disappeared' a few months ago. That was not a comforting thought, but Law was already making plans for what furniture he would need for his new office. 

Ace also gave him his own phone number, and for a few other of Marco's men, along with Daz Bones in case Marco can't be reached (but don't expect much help from that guy, he's a real asshole about doing anybody a favor). Ace seemed like an easy going and genuinely friendly guy, so Law tried to press him for a bit more information about the family and what to expect, but Ace evaded most of his questions and Law is left with little more than he already knew.

The very next day Law was open for business.

He told the hospital that he's leaving to go into private practice and will only be available for consultations, but no longer available to be on call for surgeries anymore. He told his parents that he's decided to open a health clinic that offers low-cost care for the economically disadvantaged. His father already thought that he lacked ambition, but since Law was staying on as a surgical consultant and charitable endeavors make the family look good, he was okay with it. Mr. and Mrs. Trafalgar could care less about visiting the actual clinic itself anyway.

Shachi lasted a few weeks pulling double shifts at the hospital and the clinic, but eventually he quit his legit job as a nurse and committed full time to working for Law. The money was much better at the clinic anyway, and he was soon raking in over two thousand a week of tax free cash. 

Law never actually met Whitebeard himself, and only saw Marco on occasion as his main business contact. He didn't end up wearing a suit every day either, preferring jeans and his white coat over a t-shirt, but the laid back setting suited him. At the end of the day, he genuinely enjoyed his work. The life was good, and Law took to dealing with gangsters like a duck to water. On every level it was exponentially more satisfying than high-stakes operations on old rich men's failing hearts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now back to what you've all been waiting for! Or at least I have, anyway. As always, thank you for reading, and for all the lovely reviews and kudos!
> 
> A short outline of the gang's organization as cobbled together from wikipedia and my imagination:
> 
> Boss - the head of the family  
> Underboss - the second-in-command, runs the day-to-day operations  
> Consigliere - the Boss' right hand man, adviser  
> Capo - the family captains, act as the middle men between the higher-ups and the rest of the family, directly in charge of the business that gets your hands dirty

Whitebeard was dead. 

For all intents and purposes, a hurricane had struck the Whitebeard family.

Law hears about it nearly a day after the fact. Marco calls him, Law figures he was an afterthought, to fill him in on the events.

He learns that there was a federal raid on a family meeting. Whitebeard had been shot. His consigliere was arrested and currently awaiting prison. Ace was also being held by police, along with a number of others. The damage to the family's power structure was immeasurable.

Crocodile rose to fill the vacuum of power, as the highest ranking associate still left outside bars. His crew was relatively unaffected by the raid, and he promoted Daz Bones to his old position as underboss of the organization. Marco on the other hand was left floundering, he had been Whitebeard's favored capo and his men had been the ones standing guard for the meeting.

Marco doesn't mention anything about Kid and his crew, and Law doesn't ask. 

He had no reason to worry, however. Not that he was worried, he was just interested to know exactly how the chips had fallen. Kid stops by the clinic a few hours later, along with his three men, who stand around silently and look very serious, to make sure that Law was aware of the situation. He doesn't seem fazed by the death of his boss, or suddenly having a new boss, as he explains that Crocodile will prefer to conduct business in the same way as always. Law himself is perturbed by the seemingly catastrophic event, but he doesn't relay his anxieties to Eustass. 

Kid appears satisfied that Law is up to date on the latest news, and heads out again shortly after he arrived. 

Business at the clinic is slow for the next few days, but Law shows up as usual, not quite sure what else he's supposed to do. He doesn't want to bother Marco with minor questions like “what am I supposed to work on” and he already knows what to do if the cops show up, so he assumes that if he was meant to change things up someone would have already let him know. 

Besides the lack of patients, not much else has changed from his perspective. He hardly ever saw the upper management of the family, besides Kid's unofficial visits, and never actually interacted directly with the now-deceased Whitebeard. Crocodile did not pay him any regards either, but Law couldn't help but feel like something essential had shifted. Whitebeard was a name without a face, but a benevolent presence all the same. Law had seen Crocodile, and he could remember his cold eyes as clearly as the day they first met.

After work has picked up again, and patients are starting to trickle in with rumors of how the raid went down and who shot who, Kid drops by the clinic for another of his usual pointless visits. He and Killer lounge in the waiting room, putting a noticeable damper on the gossip flitting around, until Law finishes up with the last client in line. Kid follows him into the back office.

“Hey Doc, so I was thinking...” Eustass starts, “You got a gun, right?”

“No Eustass, I do not have a gun.”

“What, for real? What are you doing in this kinda gig without a gun? You should really get one. Heck, I'll give you a gun.”

“I don't want a gun, I've never shot one in my life.”

Eustass bursts out laughing, “Seriously? Prissy stuck-up doctor never shot a gun before. Ya know, even if you're the just doctor you're still involved with the family, you need to be able to protect yourself in case I'm not around, yeah?”

Law sniffs, affronted, “I don't remember asking you to hang around all the time in the first place, so why don't you leave already. Besides, Shachi is more than enough protection.”

“That little thing? Ha, don't fool around Doc.”

“That 'little thing' is a national champion black belt in karate. I thought you knew.”

Kid huffs, only slightly abashed, “Yeah well, everybody should know how to handle a gun anyway. Don't you think, Killer?” he calls out the door at the blond, who grunts in reply. “Right, see? Tell ya what, I'll pick you up tomorrow and teach you how to shoot.”

Law stares at him, trying to gauge whether or not he's joking. It doesn't seem to be the case. “That is really unnecessary,” he says.

Kid shoots him a wide grin, “No need to thank me Doc, just doing my duty to help out one of my cute subordinates.”

“I am not one of your subordinates--” Law starts to say angrily, but Kid is on his way out the door and isn't listening.

“Alright, see ya tomorrow then Doc, let's say around 11? Don't forget to get some sleep tonight, you look ready to keel over.”

Now that Kid has put the idea in his head, Law wishes he had a gun so he could shoot the bastard on sight if he really did try to get him out of the house before noon.

\---

The next morning Kid shows up at 11 AM as promised. Law opens the door sullenly, wearing only a long sleeved tee and pajama bottoms, and deadpans.

“You were actually serious.” He has no idea how the man got his address and he's not sure he wants to find out.

Kid grins, absolutely brimming with cheer, “Mornin' sunshine. C'mon, go get ready, we don't got all day.” 

Law rolls his eyes and sighs, extremely put upon, before disappearing back into his apartment to find some clothes. He doesn't explicitly invite Eustass in, but he leaves the door open, so Kid can let himself in instead of waiting awkwardly out in the hall or worse, making a commotion at being locked out.

When Law leaves his bedroom for the second time, teeth freshly brushed and hair damp from running his wet fingers through it, he's wearing a pair of skinny jeans (designer, of course) and the same shirt he slept in, along with a very black mood. He hates going anywhere in the morning if it's not for work. He stalks past where Eustass is sitting on his couch in the living room, and grabs a can of iced coffee out of the fridge.

Kid is flipping through one of the books on his coffee table.

“You like architecture?” he says, tapping a photo of an 18th century French cathedral.

Law turns his dark look at him. 

“What?” Kid asks, “You think I'm too low class to know anything about this shit?” 

“No, I'm only surprised you know any four syllable words. Congratulations,” he drawls, the word dripping with venom.

Kid smirks at him, “Are you always this mean in the morning? I told you to get some sleep, ain't my fault if you didn't listen.” He slaps the book shut on the table and stands up. “Let's go.”

He leans on the door as Law grumpily toes on some expensive sneakers and picks out one of many puffy coats with a furred collar from the hall closet. It wasn't his fault he didn't get any sleep, either. He had been out until after four, and when he got back he had picked up his mail and there was his new copy of _Anthalogie des Maladies Ésotérique_. It had the most interesting illustrations.

Kid looks him up and down pointedly, “Ya know Doc, we're going to shoot guns, it's not a damn fashion show.”

Law sucks his teeth and counts to five before replying, glaring at Kid's ratty jeans and worn out jacket that looks like it came from a dumpster behind a military surplus store. The man dressed like shit on his days off, in odd contrast to the tailored suits and polished leather shoes he wore to work. 

“Will you please shut up, it's too early to tolerate you.” 

Kid grins harder, and settles for herding Law out of the apartment with a gentle push at the small of his back, “Yeah yeah, c'mon you cranky bastard.” 

He leads Law down to his car parked on his street. It's one of those low-slung classic Mustangs, and Law knows it's actually Eustass' car this time, because his blond babysitter Killer is nowhere in sight. He's too wrapped up in malevolent thoughts directed at Kid for his attention to be distracted by the fact that this is the first time he's seen Eustass wandering around without his keeper, so he just gets in the passenger side and texts Shachi that he won't be making it to their regular coffee shop because shitty Eustass Kid is wasting his time. Then he sits and frowns, and petulantly waits for this little activity Eustass cooked up to be over.

Kid eyes the can of coffee that Law cracks open once they're en route, “If you spill that in my car I'll sink you off the end of the pier,” he says lightly.

Law makes a dismissive sound and continues frowning out the window, slurping on coffee in a way that would make his mother's hair curl. 

“When's the last time you ate anyway?” Kid continues, unperturbed. “Lemme guess, you're not a fan of breakfast. Alright, we're stopping to get some food, or else the recoil will knock you flat on your skinny ass.”

“Please don't turn this into a whole field trip, Eustass. I had other things I wanted to do today,” Law mutters into the can.

“I'm just gonna feed ya, you ungrateful prick. Most people would appreciate a free meal. I even know a good place on the way, we'll go there. You'll like it, I promise.” 

That cements Law's determination to not enjoy anything Eustass wants to do today. It will be a cold day in hell before someone forces him to have a good time. 

Kid pulls them up to a dingy little hole in the wall restaurant with a sign claiming to be the best hot Italian beef sandwiches in four counties, that consists of a counter, kitchen, and three wobbly but thankfully clean tables. Eustass seems to know everybody in the restaurant—that is, the teenage girl working the register and the greasy cook standing vigil at the flat top grill—and he greets them amiably by name.

“How's it going Gina, hey Jimmy.” 

“Hey Kid,” the cashier says, clearly bored. “Killer not with you? That's new.”

“Yeah, he's got shit to do. I'll get the usual, and a #3 for the little ray of sunshine over there,” he waggles his thumb back at Law, who is doing his best to exude a 'this is such a waste of my time' vibe.

“Hey Doc, you want it spicy or sweet?”

Law frowns, but resigns himself since it would be rude to disparage the food right in front of the chef. He's never had 'hot Italian beef' before so he chooses randomly, “Sweet, I suppose.” 

Kid raises a brow at him like that's amusing, and turns back to Gina, “Alright, you heard him. And a couple beers too.”

They tuck into their sandwiches at one of the shaky tables after a few minutes wait, and Law starts becoming suspicious by how inordinately pleased Kid is that he's actually eating. True, the man was a bit off on his best days, but today he was acting even stranger than usual. First there was the fact that Killer wasn't around. Then Kid was driving him around in what appeared to be his own personal car. Finally he took him out to lunch, and was supposedly taking him to learn how to shoot a gun. 

Law eventually deciphers the ploy, _Ohh, he thinks he tricked me into going on a date_. He wants to laugh, or maybe bang his head on the table, but he does nothing to give away his realization. Let Eustass think he's getting away with it a little longer. 

Once Law realizes that Kid isn't just dragging him around for his own amusement, but is actually trying to make Law have a good time because it's a _date_ , his perspective shifts a bit. He notices that Kid is actually smiling more, rather than the cheeky grins and smirks he usually has plastered on. Law keeps up the grumpy act just so he can watch and see if Kid falters when he realizes Law is not having a good time as according to plan, but Kid's good mood never wavers for a second. It's like he knows with absolute confidence that his not-a-date is an excellent time and Law will definitely like it.

Law mostly wants to pretend that he definitely does NOT like it, if only because Kid's self-assuredness seems to know no bounds and for that reason alone Law is tempted to crush it under his heel. But a small part of him is actually enjoying watching Eustass have a good time, and he finds he can't quite remain as sullen as he was before.

He finishes most of his sandwich—which is really quite tasty, though he doesn't mention it—and waits somewhat patiently as Eustass devours his own to the very last bite, swills off the last drop of beer, and crumples up some napkins. 

Of course he also would not admit that Kid making him have a solid meal could improve the mood, because he runs just fine on coffee, thank you.

After eating, Kid drives them way out to the outskirts of the industrial district, right into an abandoned factory yard. Various debris and scrap parts that were never properly disposed of are scattered around, and sheet metal and pallets with rotted out tarps covering their cargo line the outside of the building. Law gets out of the car and takes it all in idly; if his mindset were slightly different he might think there was a hit on his head because this seems like a great place to dispose of someone. Also it wouldn't make any sense for Eustass to treat him to lunch before clipping him. 

“I thought we were going to a shooting range,” he says.

“What, seriously? Why pay for that shit when we can do it for free.” Kid says from where he's rummaging around in the back seat. He pops up a moment later, a little black case in hand.

“What about, oh I don't know, safety equipment?” Law suggests.

Kid snaps his fingers, “Oh yeah that's right, I did bring something for your delicate sensibilities.” He digs his free hand into his jacket pocket and withdraws a couple plastic packets of bright orange pairs of earplugs.

“Here ya go sweetheart,” he says, tossing one to Law, “Wait don't stick 'em in yet, lemme show you the piece.” He drops the case on the hood of the car and flips the latches, opening it to reveal a sleek black pistol before taking out the gun and handing it to Law, who takes it gingerly, keeping his fingers far away from the trigger. 

Kid explains with obvious enthusiasm why this is the best gun to start out with, because it's easy to use, won't jam on you no matter how shitty you treat it, and has the lowest rate of misfires, etcetera, etcetera. Law tunes him out after about thirty seconds of specifics. All he has learned so far is that guns are heavier than they look.

“Alright, I don't really care Eustass. Just show me how to fire the damn thing already,” he interrupts when it seems that Kid is not about to stop on his own.

“Okay fine! You can put your earplugs in now.” Kid walks away a few paces with a rough laugh.

Eustass turns out to not be a horrible teacher, though firing a gun also turns out to be pretty simple. Law has a surprising amount of fun just shooting out old windows and whatever targets that Kid points out to him. The gun is loud, even with the ridiculous looking earplugs, and he has to raise his voice to ask questions. After a few rounds Kid is teasing him noisily about what a bad shot he is, and Law is shouting back rejoinders just as energetically in return. He's also grinning back. Small grins, but he can feel them tugging at his mouth all the same, and he's sure Eustass can see them too judging by the long loud laughs he receives in reply.

Eventually he gets tired of the constant heckling, and decides he wants to be on the other side of things.

“Eustass, do you have your gun with you? I want to see you try.” He has only seen Eustass' gun a few times before, once the first night they met when Kid dropped his gun, holster and all, right on top of the counter in the exam room, knocking around a bunch of Law's medical supplies in an obvious intimidation tactic. He knows it's a big beast of a gun, just like its owner, but not much else. 

Eustass seems taken aback by the request, but he shrugs and with a 'Yeah, sure' he unholsters it from its hiding spot under his jacket and shows it to Law, rattling off a list of specs that Law has no idea how to interpret but he assumes are impressive nonetheless. He nods Eustass along, just wanting him to get to the shooting part, which eventually he does. 

“Alright,” Kid says, “What's my shot?”

Law scans their surroundings for some suitably difficult targets, and indicates a light fixture that appears tiny at this distance, followed by the knob of a rusted door on the opposite building. Kid smirks because he knows Law is trying to make things difficult for him, but then he slips on a mask of perfect composure and relaxes, raising the gun in one hand. He shoots twice, hitting both targets in a split second with one smooth swing of his arm.

Law raises his eyebrows. Even though he still hardly knows the first thing about shooting a gun, he can't help but be impressed by the effortless marksmanship Kid just displayed. It was no wonder that Kid decided to make this his attempt at a first date. Who knew under all that brashness Eustass actually had some skill to back it up.

He notices Kid is smirking at him now, and the man breaks into a full preening, “Pretty good, don'tcha think?”

Law gifts him with half a smile in return, and decides to conduct a little test. “It wasn't bad. Mind if I try it?” He holds out the smaller pistol to exchange for Eustass' gun, turning up his smile just a notch and softening his eyes to give Kid a slightly sultry look. 

Kid hesitates for only a moment before he hands his gun over and accepts Law's. No one can say no to Law's sultry looks after all.

“Alright, just watch the kick. Might want to use both hands,” Kid says, taking a step back to give Law some room.

Law obeys without any additional snark, and settles calmly into a shooting stance. When he pulls the trigger the recoil still catches him off guard and he misses his target by several feet; he actually laughs from the surprise.

He hands the gun back to Eustass after just one shot, smirking slyly, “Well Eustass, now that I've held both your cock and your gun what comes next? The wedding?”

A slow smile spreads across Kid's face as he reaches behind himself to re-holster his gun. “Well I don't know about that, but I've got some ideas,” he says, equally sly. 

He sidles up to Law, who stands his ground, still smiling.

Kid finally takes all the hints and leans down slowly, as if Law might startle like a wild animal. He presses a soft kiss to Law's lips, and when he realizes Law still isn't running away or punching him in the face he settles both hands on Law's hips and tilts his head to give him a real kiss. 

Law finds his own hands rising to grab onto Kid's arms, who mmm's into his mouth and walks him backwards a few steps to be pressed against the car, which is luckily the only clean surface in the place.

Kid quickly gets his hands up under Law's shirt and smooths overs his sides, only taking a moment away from trying to find every corner of Law's mouth with his tongue to murmur, “God, you're so fucking gorgeous, shit.” The sole thought in Law's head at the moment is, _why the hell didn't I get these hands on me sooner they're amazing_ , as Kid squeezes and strokes over his bare skin, hiking his shirt practically up to his chest in the process. He only makes a quiet sound when Kid rubs over his nipples, and reaches up into Kid's hair to tug him closer.

Eustass turns out to be an excellent kisser, responsive to even the most subtle cues, and soon Law feels as though he's kissing someone who has known him forever. Kid licks and mouths across Law's jaw, pausing to suck on Law's earlobe in a way that makes his spine absolutely melt, while Kid's hands feel like pure magic sliding down over his clothes to grope at his ass.

“You have no idea how crazy you've been driving me with these jeans,” Kid says against Law's neck, pulling Law's hips closer until he's practically straddled over one of Kid's thighs. Law smirks while Kid can't see it. He did have a little bit of an idea, since torturing Kid all day with these jeans was part of the revenge plan for Kid forcing him out of his apartment at an ungodly hour. 

Making out on the car is fun and all, but Kid seems perfectly pleased to keep doing that forever. After several minutes Law becomes impatient to move things along. 

So he reaches down to palm over the hard length filling Kid's jeans.

“I've been thinking about this, you know,” he practically purrs, giving him a long smooth stroke. Kid pulls back from sucking a bruise into his collarbone and swallows thickly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, ever since I saw it. I think about what it would be like to suck you whenever I'm touching myself.”

Kid groans at that and rocks into Law's hand, “You're fucking kidding me. That's the hottest thing I ever heard.”

Law rubs back more firmly. Just the full thick feeling through the denim is making his dick hard enough to ache. With one hand he undoes Kid's fly—“Oh shit,” Kid says—and reaches in to pull out the fully hard cock of his dreams. It feels so big and hot and perfect he almost moans out loud, but he settles for giving it another firm stroke and hearing Kid moan instead.

“Can I suck you off?” he asks, as if it were even a question.

“Fuck, yes,” Kid says, with just an edge of neediness. He can't seem to stop rocking into Law's hand.

Law grins to himself as he pushes Kid away so he can sink down to his knees in between Kid's legs. 

Gripping the thick length in one hand and stilling Kid's hips with the other, he drags his lips and just a hint of tongue down one side and mouths up the underside of the shaft, getting acquainted with Kid's lovely weight and smooth skin. He pays the same attention to the other side, nuzzling against   
the cock that had been the feature of many indecent daydreams lately. He has to resist the urge to just rub his face into it and saturate himself in the warm musky smell.

He glances up at the same time that he delivers a broad lick just under the head and can actually see Kid's pupils dilate as he laps up a salty dribble of precome from the tip. He licks his lips and slides them over the head of Eustass' cock. 

Kid's hips stutter when Law finally takes him into his mouth. Fortunately there's enough space between his head and the car so he has some room to concede until Kid manages to control himself. Though he's not particularly opposed to having his throat fucked open by Eustass' wonderful cock, in fact lately he thinks about it often and fondly, it's just now that he's finally got his lips around his prize he'd like to savor it a bit first. 

And savor it he does, slowly stroking himself, with the occasional leisurely swipe of his thumb over the head of his cock, while he alternates sucking and tonguing every inch of Eustass that he can fit in his mouth. Eustass doesn't last long under such meticulous attention, Law deliberately ignores his warning to stop, and soon he's coming hard down Law's throat, cupping the back of his head almost tenderly. 

Law does pull off then, with one final flick of his tongue to catch the last few drops, and lays his forehead against the inside of Kid's thigh, giving the man a few moments to recover while he finishes himself off. 

When Kid gets his head on straight again he reaches down to pull Law up and leans heavily into him, pressing him back into the car for some more lazy filthy kissing, seeming to relish the taste of himself on Law's tongue. They kiss lazily, without bothering to redo their jeans, Kid's hands roaming around slowly under Law's shirt and into his underwear. 

Then Kid's phone starts ringing. He shoves his hand into one of his jacket pockets to ignore the call without even looking, and gets back to thoroughly kneading Law's ass once it's silenced. Until it starts ringing again 15 seconds later.

“Motherfucker,” he growls, and pulls the phone out to look at the screen. He makes a face then answers the call while Law watches, amused by how pissed Kid seems to be from getting interrupted.

“I'm fucking busy. What? Yeah. Fine. Yeah, I'll be there! Jesus.” He ends the call and sticks the phone back inside his jacket, scowling fiercely at nothing in particular.

“Duty calls?” Law asks sweetly.

“Killer calls. I got something to do.” Kid says, a bit petulantly, and instead of releasing Law he bends in again to nose at Law's ear.

“Mm,” Law tilts his head to the side agreeably, allowing Kid to nibble across his jawline, “You had better have time to return me to my apartment.”

“Yeah, I'm already late,” Kid mumbles against his neck, “A little longer won't hurt.” then he mouths a soft spot below Law's ear before setting in to suck another bruise into the flesh. 

That signals the end of Law's agreeableness, and he shoves Kid away before he can make a mark. “Take me home, I have to be at the clinic.”

Eustass pouts (cutely, though Law would never admit it even to himself) but doesn't voice a protest, and soon they are in the car and on their way back into the city.

Even while driving Kid's eyes keep catching on Law's mouth for a few seconds before he redirects his attention to the road, and Law finds himself feeling very self-satisfied despite the fact that he allowed Eustass' plan to succeed. He knows that the other man never imagined getting quite this type of quality time with him, and thinking back to the utterly mesmerized look in Eustass' eyes the moment Law swallowed his cock fills Law with a delicious smug satiety he can't be bothered to shake. 

He's always had a bit of a natural gift for sucking cock, and practice had refined his talents into something superb, so it was no surprise that he could drive a man to distraction with his mouth alone. But that look was proof he had captured some piece of Eustass in that moment, a part that Eustass would find very hard to get back, something that gives Law a heady burst of power every time he feels Eustass' gaze being drawn towards him like a magnet.

Law spends most of the ride deliberating exactly how much he wants from Eustass, now that he's declared open season on the star-crossed capo. He imagines that he could take anything. He doesn't want to date Eustass—god no, the man was a mongrel—he just happened to have the body of Adonis and a strange, albeit increasingly tolerable, fixation on Law. He could work with that, easily, and he had never had a boytoy quite like Eustass before. It might even be fun.

The rest of the ride he spends fending off Eustass' hand from encroaching up his leg. By the time they pull up to the front of his apartment building he's half-hard again, and practically hissing with annoyance at Eustass' unceasing advances. Kid only grins harder every time he gets in a good squeeze above Law's knee, and refuses to take any admonishment to heart. 

They pull up to the front of Law's apartment building after half an hour's drive. He expects Eustass to be the type to want a kiss goodbye, but Kid just sneaks in one last affectionate squeeze on his thigh, “I'll see ya later, sweetheart,” he says with a smirk. Law hmph's, shoves his hand off, and gets out of the car without looking back. He heads up to his apartment with carefully conducted poise, to shower and get changed before heading off to the clinic for the evening.

\---

Eustass doesn't drop by that night, leaving Law to ruminate over the afternoon's events with relish. He likes to think he's being discrete, but Shachi still picks up on something.

“What's got you in such a good mood, doctor?” he asks Law, right after he's finished escorting a more than slightly drunk man with a freshly splinted wrist, bandaged knuckles, and a few more bruises than he came in with out the door. 

“Nothing, I'm not in a good mood.” Law has made sure several times that a malicious smirk hasn't snuck onto his face, and he's certain there's nothing giving him away.

“It's just that you haven't mentioned anything about going out with Eustass today,” Shachi trails off expectantly. 

Oh, damnit. He had been so occupied by acting like everything was normal that he had forgotten how suspicious what wasn't said could be. 

Law sniffs disdainfully, “He was atrociously annoying and it was an enormous waste of my time, so it fulfilled my expectations if that's what you were wondering.”

“Hmm,” Shachi says, looking a little too thoughtful. He follows Law back into the office and leans his hip on the edge of the desk as Law busies himself with paperwork left over from earlier in the day. “No second date then?”

Law sneers down at a half-filled request form for bloodwork, “If that was supposed to be a date it failed miserably. The man is a complete idiot without a drop of charm in his overgrown body, you know that.”

Shachi starts fiddling with a pen, idly spinning it around on the desk in a way that he knew drove Law up the wall. If he was trying to get more information by aggravating it out of Law he would have to do better than that. 

However he is ready to smack that pen across the room by the time Shachi speaks again. 

“When's the last time you went out anyway?”

“What does that have to do with anything.” Law is going to start grinding his teeth any second. He was not expecting to be interrogated on his dating habits by his subordinate, and having his actions questioned by anyone rankled him even at the best of times.

“I mean, it's been a while right? I don't think I've seen you get a date since we started working here.”

“And?” He didn't know where Shachi was going with this and he didn't like it. 

Shachi spins the pen around a few more times and studiously avoids Law's eyes, “I'm saying maybe it's not so bad to get out.”

“I get out.”

“I mean with somebody besides me and Penguin.”

Law stops writing and looks up very slowly, “If you're suggesting I should date Eustass because I need a new man in my life, I'm going to fire you.”

Shachi jerks upright, waving his hands to disperse that accusation, “No! God no, that's not what I mean at all. It's just maybe it's not so bad that you've got his attention with all this shit going on, you know?” He's started pacing around the office, still gesturing with quick choppy swipes of his hand, “Whitebeard's gone now, Marco's all busy with half his crew being picked up by the cops, and who the hell knows if this Crocodile guy is going to look out for you!”

And with that Law has finally grasped the point of this line of questioning. Shachi was worried—and probably Penguin too, he knew they talked about him when he wasn't around—that Law was going to find himself in trouble if he didn't have some sort of guardian angel in the family. There was only so much his friends could do when they weren't officially inducted into the group. Jean Bart and Bepo both seemed like they honestly cared about how Law and his people were doing, but they weren't very high up on the food chain themselves. Ace was now in jail. Marco seemed like a good man who occasionally made genuine efforts to help Law out, but as Shachi pointed out even he had to prioritize his own crew above outsiders during a crisis. 

But like Marco, Eustass was a capo. And unlike Marco, Eustass' crew had survived the raid and subsequent power shift intact. 

Eustass was of the attitude that one boss was very much like the next, as he had made clear to Law. He did his work, his crew was disciplined and highly competent, and they had no problems getting jobs done, whether it was for Whitebeard or Crocodile made no matter. 

He also had more muscle than good sense, a surplus of free time if he could drop by unannounced nearly every day, and a keen interest in Law that bordered on an obsessive infatuation. 

Finally, Eustass was not pleased with the new level of violence that had reached even Whitebeard, and had taken it upon himself to see that Law was looked out for.

And here Law was thinking of using him only for sex. 

Normally he would commend Shachi on his masterful plotting, but his pride rejected the plan out of hand on principle alone. He was not about to flirt his way into Eustass' protection when he was damn well smart enough to take care of himself. He got himself involved with this family, and he could get himself out any time he wanted.

Shachi has stopped pacing and is waiting anxiously for a response. 

Law sighs, leaning back in his chair, both amused and exasperated by Shachi's insinuation, “While I can appreciate your concern, I don't need to stoop to using Eustass to act as my keeper. I have you and Penguin watching out for me after all, and I am capable of looking after myself, as you should know.” 

Unfortunately, Shachi is not placated with that alone. He frowns at Law, nearly pouting. It's cute, but unconvincing.

“I didn't mean to imply that doctor, it's just--”

“That's all I want to hear about the matter,” Law interrupts, “I won't burn any bridges with Eustass over one bad outing, so don't worry over that either. I'm counting on you to stay vigilant without meddling in how I involve myself with Crocodile's men.” He almost said Whitebeard before remembering. 

Shachi's shoulders lower slightly, and Law knows he's won his point. 

“Okay, I understand. Just... be careful.”

“Of course, I know what I'm doing.”

How could he forget that it was a dangerous business, that was why he had gotten into it in the first place.


	6. Chapter 6

Kid makes his usual appearance late the next afternoon, swaggering into the waiting room with Killer close behind. Law recognizes the commotion and sticks his head out from the exam room, where he's been rearranging swabs and gauze into better positions in the drawers after Shachi had misplaced everything.

“Hey, Doc!” Kid calls with a wide grin when he spots him, “I brought your present.” He holds up the little black gun case he's carrying in one hand and gives it an enticing shake. Law eyes it for a moment. He had completely forgotten that Kid had meant to give him the gun yesterday, and was surprised that Kid had remembered. In his mind the shooting lesson had been entirely overshadowed by the events that followed. He can't quite choose whether to be annoyed or pleased that Eustass is being considerate.

Pleased wins out when he can't help smiling back at Eustass' stupidly happy expression.

“How generous of you Eustass, thank you,” he says, accepting the case. Shachi chooses that moment to return and he catches Law's smile. Law wipes it off like it was a stain, and shoots Shachi a look, _don't say a fucking word you ass_. Shachi gives him an impish smirk, after years of practice he could understand Law's wordless orders, but stays mercifully silent. Although he doesn't oblige Law by making himself scarce, instead hanging around to watch the exchange play out.

“Yeah well you seemed to have such a good time with it, wouldn't be fair to keep it to myself,” Kid says. Law has to clamp his mouth shut to stop another smile from sneaking out. He knows something else he wouldn't be allowing Eustass keep to himself.

Kid continues, “And if you need some more lessons let me know, I'll free up my schedule any day.”

The man obviously knows what he's doing, flirting right in front of Shachi and Killer, and somehow Law isn't as angry about it as he should be. He knows he's already given himself away with all the smiling, and he's guaranteed to get the 'I _knew_ it' talk from Shachi later. He glances at Killer, who is standing by the door with a pained expression. That was just too amusing... so Killer did have a limit for tolerating his captain's shamelessness.

Well, now that plan to keep things between him and Eustass completely discrete had failed before it had a chance to get off the ground (damn Eustass for always bringing out the worst in him), the least he could do was ruffle Killer's feathers a bit more.

He tilts his head to the side and looks up suggestively at Kid, “I appreciate the offer, though I doubt you're a very busy man to begin with.” If Law had his way, all of Kid's free time would be devoted to shutting his mouth and looking pretty while Law did with the man as he pleased. He tries to translate this to Kid with his eyes, and thinks Kid gets the message when he swells up with a confident grin.

“Oh I am, but you know I always make time for you, sweetheart.”

Law looks around Kid's shoulder just in time to catch Killer grimacing, and gives him a smug smile. Aha, mask broken.

It's a meaningless victory, but success is a treat nonetheless. Unfortunately he has traded discretion for it, and as soon as Killer and Eustass had left for the night Shachi begins crowing triumphantly.

“I _knew_ it! You're so getting it on! It looked like you were about to start sucking face right there!”

“Oh shut up, he's just fun to play with.”

“He's acting like he's over the _moon_ for you Doc, what the hell did you do to him yesterday?” Shachi is bouncing on his heels as he follows Law tidying up around the clinic.

Law smirks as the memory is dredged up for the hundredth time, “Not much, Eustass is very simple to please.”

“Come on, spill! He wouldn't be eating out of the palm of your hand if you didn't do something good.”

Law shrugs noncommittally, which earns him a groan from Shachi.

“Okay fine I get it! You don't kiss and tell. At least tell me where you're going with this, you've got something up your sleeve right? All that talk about not using Eustass and you are totally doing it!”

Law turns around and folds his arms across his chest, regarding his nurse coolly, “I'm not using Eustass, I am only taking advantage of what's offered to me.”

“Aw, you're no fun doctor. You can keep it to yourself if you want, but I know you've got something planned you sly bastard.”

“That's no way to speak to your boss. Also, I am fun. Didn't you see the look on Killer's face?”

“Ha, yeah! I thought he was going to start gagging. I should've given him a bin.”

Shachi is sufficiently distracted by their shared gloating over the blond's misery, and Law manages to avoid any further discussion on his designs for Eustass. It wasn't even that he was plotting anything particularly devious. As a capo Eustass hefted a good deal more power in the family than Law could manage alone, although it could be advantageous to have that leverage available if he ever needed it, there just wasn't anything in particular he wanted at the moment. Eustass would also harbor his fair share of family secrets, and he didn't seem particularly devoted to the Boss in the way that Marco had been loyal to Whitebeard, so Law could feasibly wheedle some new information out of him.

But despite what Shachi might think, Law really wasn't interested in using Eustass like that. Something about the man was so guileless and eager it wouldn't be satisfying to use him as a pawn, especially when Eustass might happily act the part simply because Law wanted him to. Using people in power games lost some of its fun when they were knew what was going on.

Using people sexually on the other hand, only became more fun when they knew they were being used, and liked it.

 

\---

Kid doesn't make an appearance the next night. Law is annoyed by this. Once he had tasted his prize, he wasn't going to let it evade him for very long.

Work at the clinic that evening fails to hold his attention, so he sends Shachi home around midnight and returns to his own apartment early.

On the drive home he texts Eustass, 'Come to my place tonight.'

He expects a prompt reply, and is satisfied when he gets one ten minutes later, 'working late, need something?'

'I'll be up, just come over.'

'whatever you say doc'

Law gets home and settles in for a wait. Despite seeing Eustass so often, he's still not sure what the man does every night. Ace had said Kid's crew protected the family's interests by doling out punishment to those customers that violated the terms of their loan agreements, but Law had never bothered to find out the details of what exactly that entailed. He assumed that, like Eustass, it wasn't pretty. Kid obviously maintained his terrifying appearance for a reason, intimidation and violence would come to him as naturally as breathing.

Kid shows up after 5 A.M.. By then Law has exhausted his usual diversions and is sick of waiting, and he opens the door debating whether or not he had changed his mind. Eustass is leaning with his forearm against the frame, filling up the doorway entirely, and he smiles at Law, “Hey Doc, what's up?”

Law frowns back, and looks him up and down. Eustass is wearing a suit, jacket open and collar loose, with what appear to be speckles of blood on his white shirt. There's a gleam in his eyes that Law can't quite place, something more intent than mere lust. It's enough to intrigue him, anyway.

“You're late,” is all Law says before opening the door wider and letting Kid through.

“Yeah well, I was working like I said. Can't help if it's late.” Kid walks in, glancing around briefly before his eyes settle on Law again, “So, what'd you need?”

Law avoids the question, “You have blood on your shirt.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess so. Sorry, I didn't have time to get changed since Your Highness summoned me.” He smirks at Law, “I'm starting to think you called me over for no reason, wanna clue me in?”

“You took so long I may have forgotten,” Law says coolly.

Kid's smirk widens. He has a lazy sort of energy about him tonight, like a lion fresh off its kill, as he steps closer to Law, who has to tilt his head back to meet Kid's eyes.

“That's a shame. I did come all the way over here for you.”

“Yes, well...” Law shrugs, and waits for Eustass to either turn around and leave or get what he came for.

Fortunately for them both, Kid doesn't tend to leave anywhere without getting what he wants.

He curls his hand around the back of Law's neck and pulls him in closer, stopping with their mouths an inch apart.

“I haven't been able to think straight all night because of you,” he breathes, eyes almost closed.

The corner of Law's mouth quirks in a coy grin, “Oh, is that so?”

“You know it, you damn tease,” he says, and drags Law forward, parting his lips easily with a lick.

Eustass is as wonderful and wet and warm as he remembered. He smells like sweat and smoke, and Law sinks into it, allowing himself to be backed against the wall. He tugs Eustass' shirt free before slipping his hands under it, running them smoothly over the hot skin of his back and sides, at the same time that Kid is sliding his pajama bottoms down, reaching behind him to cup his ass with a firm grip.

Law sighs when he feels Kid's cock rub up against his hip, and loops his arms around Kid's neck to urge him closer. Eustass obliges him eagerly, almost lifting Law off his feet in his hurry to grind him into the wall. Kid groans deep in his chest when Law twists fingers into his long hair and yanks his head back, hard enough to sting, “Oh, you fucker--” he pants until Law shuts him up with a bite to his throat.

They spend several long minutes rutting against each other through their clothes, Law sucking and biting marks into Kid's neck that bloom red instantly on his pale skin. Eustass responds beautifully to every sharp nip of pain, little gasped breaths being forced out of him whenever Law takes a moment away from mouthing his neck to sink teeth in, always short of breaking the skin but Law doesn't hold back once he realizes Eustass soaks up the abuse readily. It's satisfying on a visceral level, and Law only stops when he's so hard it hurts.

He pushes and pulls at Kid until he follows stumbling to the bedroom, where they fall into bed, hastily removing the last of their clothes as fast as possible without breaking free of each others hands and mouths.

Kid rolls onto his back and Law follows, sliding between his long legs to come face first with Kid's cock laying thick against his stomach. He stops for just a moment to admire Eustass, whose mouth is parted and eyes heavy lidded, with a line of dark bruises ringing around the base of his throat, and a flush spreading from his cheeks to his naked chest. He looks utterly debauched, almost drunk, spread across Law's bed like a blushing Dionysian sacrifice. Law wants to devour him whole.

When Kid starts to squirm under the scrutiny, Law dips down to lap up the precome streaming steadily from his slit, making Kid buck his hips and clench fists into the sheets.

“Motherfucker, you bastard, oh fuck, fuck!” he moans, a constant ramble of profanity as Law lavishes him with wide licks from base to tip, while half-heartedly pinning his hips down so he'll stop trying to jump into Law's mouth. Law smiles against his cock, where he can feel it, before dragging his lips up the shaft and sucking the head.

He rolls his tongue against the underside, tuning out Kid's babbling to focus on the delicious slide of his mouth being filled past its limits. He's always enjoyed this part, especially with a cock so thick it makes his jaw ache to keep open. He leaves his hands put on Kid's hips, using only of his mouth to take Kid a little further with every bob of his head. It's easy enough to keep his teeth from nicking, except Kid is so big it's only eventual that he would scrape against them once Law has taken him deep enough.

When it does happen, Kid curses loudly enough to wake the neighbors three flights down, and Law imagines he's about to tear the sheets with how hard he's twisting his hands in them, though he makes absolutely no move to prevent Law from continuing. In fact, Law can feel him swelling even more, which he hadn't thought possible by this point, and his own cock throbs in response. He sinks down onto the bed so he can grind himself slowly into the mattress while he hollows his cheeks and uses his tongue to soothe Eustass where it matters most.

Law still has the presence of mind to marvel at Eustass' control as he slides down even further, his nose eventually brushing the stiff hairs at the base of Kid's cock, already soaked wet with the spit drooling out of his mouth. The other man keeps his hips in place with only the lightest suggestion from Law's hand, even though with one motion he could bury himself all the way into Law's face and make him choke. Law is almost hoping he'll do it in spite of himself. He would love to make Eustass lose control like that.

But he doesn't, and Law is free to use his skills to their fullest effect. He swirls and coils his tongue over as much of Eustass as he can, using the tip to trace along the underside in shapes and patterns only he understands the meaning of. He sucks in the last inch that has eluded him, and lick around the base with a practiced swipe he knows will make anyone come undone.

Kid finally falls speechless at that, though far from silent. He moans and pants and gasps under Law, thighs jerking with every curl of Law's tongue, coming hard with a choked cry just as soon as Law manages to swallow his entire length and can feel the heavy nudge of Kid's cock hitting the back of his throat. He gulps down the sudden burst of Kid's release with a quiet moan that's more vibration than noise, and Kid arches up towards him with a weak groan in response. When he feels the last throb of Kid's orgasm he pulls off so he can finally take some uninterrupted breaths to replace all the oxygen he's been holding back from.

It's over too fast, but Law can't bring himself to be disappointed when he comes nearly as quick as he can get up on his knees to touch himself. He spills carelessly onto the sheets, kneeling between Kid's legs and taking in the perfect sight of Kid's sated cock laying wet and shiny against the dark red hair that surrounds it.

Eustass is already dozing off, limbs sprawled around carelessly, by the time Law looks up at him again. Law leaves him where he lies, getting only a grunt as he slides off the bed and pads to the bathroom.

It's not even 6 AM yet but he goes through his usual morning routine. After a quick shower and shave he leaves the room with a glance over at Eustass, who has rolled onto his belly without getting under the sheets and has his face stuffed into one of Law's pillows.

Law puts on some fresh pants and a soft gray cotton shirt, leaving his clothes and Eustass' scattered around the floor to be picked up later. He goes to the kitchen to make some coffee, and begins where he had left off on the book he was reading before Eustass arrived.

That's where he still is several hours later, sitting at the dining table and reading medical science journals on his laptop, when Kid finds him.

“Mornin' sweetheart, whatcha doin'?” He comes up behind Law, dressed only in his boxers, to give him a huge smacking kiss on his head before Law swats him away with a scowl. Kid isn't deterred, and leans over Law's shoulder to read the screen, bracing one arm on the table, “The fuck is that, German? You read German?”

“Yes it's German, and yes I can read it,” Law replies testily. The feeling of Kid looming behind him is making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he's reminded yet again how much he prefers being left alone in the morning. Normally he would have kicked out a bedmate by this hour, but to be honest sex made it easier to concentrate on his reading and he had practically forgotten about Eustass once the man was asleep and out of sight.

Kid moves away to check the fridge, then starts pawing through cabinets when he finds nothing of interest.

“Is there seriously no food in your kitchen? When do you actually eat, Doc?” he complains.

“I go out to lunch with Penguin and Shachi all the time.” Sometimes. “It's the cover for our supply drops.”

“And besides that? Don't tell tell me you just live on coffee the rest of the day.” Eustass wanders off into the living room and opens the liquor cabinet he spied earlier, snorting at Law's collection of pricey 30 year whiskeys that are several times more expensive than anything he had ever brought by the clinic as a present. “My mistake, coffee and whiskey.”

“Only on special occasions,” Law drawls, still scrolling through online journals.

Kid comes back into the kitchen and drops himself into one of the chairs across the table, nudging Law rudely with his foot, “I'm fucking starving, never had a chance to eat last night. Let's go get some lunch.”

“Get it yourself. If you hadn't noticed while you were busy poking your nose all over my home, I'm in the middle of something.”

“Doc, I swear to god, why do you have to be such a prick all the time!” Eustass groans, dropping his head to the table with a thunk. He turns to glare at Law through a mess of untamed red hair.

Law finally looks at him. Eustass is full on sulking at this point, and it shouldn't be amusing because he's a grown man, but it is nonetheless. Law is certain that he's the only person who can reduce Eustass to such a state, he can't imagine the man behaving this way in front of anyone else, even Killer.

Law rolls his eyes and decides to throw him a bone, “Just go eat already if you're going to to complain so much. I'll see you tonight anyway, won't I?”

Kid blinks, slightly mollified even though Law left it purposefully vague whether he meant Eustass' usual visits to the clinic, or if he were thinking of inviting Eustass back for a repeat performance. He pushes the chair away and stands up, “Fine.” With that he walks off to find the rest of his clothes from around the apartment, finishing with his jacket in the front hall. “Later then?”

Law waves him off.

An hour later, when he's picking up his own clothes off the floor, he finds Eustass' lighter in the corner of his room. It's a heavy silver thing that he's seen Kid using constantly, and now that he's looking closely at it he notices its engraved with a weird spiky little gear with a skeleton face in the center. Odd.

He flips the top open and lights it, watching the flame burn for a moment before flicking it shut and slipping it into his pocket to give to Eustass the next time he sees him.

 

\---

He gets an unexpected call from Jean Bart later on in the day, informing him that the four biggest crime families are getting together to have some kind of huge party to honor Whitebeard's passing, and he's invited. That was just great.

The party itself takes place the next week on a Friday night, in the ballroom of the nicest hotel in the city.

Law shows up fashionably late, and fashionably dressed in one of his best black suits and a pair of white-gold cuff links shaped like Greek crosses, stamped with the Rod of Asclepius, the symbol of medicine. He wasn't especially interested in meeting the doctors from the other families, but he wouldn't be mistaken for anything else.

Penguin declined to attend for some reason, but Shachi came with him. The hall is filled to the brim with thugs of every creed, milling around getting drunk and rowdy in tailored suits and designer dresses.

Law scans the room for anyone he knows, finding Jean Bart and Bepo against one of the far walls, and Killer leaning on the bar with Heat and Wire, but Crocodile and his capos are nowhere to be seen. Law and Shachi skirt around the edge of the crowded room over to Jean, who greets them with a smile as Shachi slaps Bepo on the arm and says, “Hey man!”

“Hello,” Law says to Jean, “I don't see the Boss, or Marco. Where are they?”

“All the higher ups are meeting to sort out some business with the change in leadership,” Jean says, jerking one thumb in the direction of a set of closed double doors that Law assumes leads to a conference room, “They should be out soon, they've been in there for an hour already.”

Law hmm's in reply. He could use a drink, or three, but the bar is crowded with strangers, so he and Shachi stick with Jean; he at least can explain who some of these people are. He points out Ace's brother's crew, a wild group who seem to be consuming more food and alcohol, and making more noise, than the rest of the party combined, which is no easy feat in this kind of company. Most of the people of interest are in the meeting, however.

Law had never met even a capo from one of the other families, though he knew some of the big names. There was Redhair Shanks of course, and his merry band of gambling dens and fight clubs, then Big Mam, the only female boss Law knew of, whose family controlled every kind of hedonistic pleasure someone could dream of, namely sex and drugs but also other more obscure delights of the flesh, and who also ran every club worth mentioning in the city.

And lastly there was Kaido, about whom there were more rumors swirling around than Law than could make sense of. His family sounded the most terrifying, Law had heard more than once that they had contracts with actual terrorists. Ostensibly they facilitated death, destruction, and total annihilation at any scale, and that could only be the tip of the iceberg. If you needed guns, rifles, bombs, even biochemical weapons, the Kaido family could get anything your murderous little heart desired, but don't cross them or somehow 3 lb of plastic explosives will find its way into your house.

Finally the double doors open, and almost everyone in the ballroom swivels around to watch the procession emerge from the conference room.

Law sees Crocodile, striding out surrounded by his underlings, straight away. He can't quite tell if the meeting went well just by looking at them, Crocodile is sneering around his cigar, Daz Bones is stone-faced at his side as usual, Marco looks exhausted, and Kid is already parting the crowd to make a beeline across the room towards his crew at the bar.

Shanks is easy to recognize, as is Big Mam since her name fits her stature, and Ace's brother is similarly obvious with his messy black hair and an enormous smile stretched across his face, but Law can't spot anyone whose appearance screams 'international arms dealer' that would mark Kaido. Then he sees someone he has met before, except it was in the exact opposite context of an assembly of the most infamous names in the criminal underworld.

Donquixote Doflamingo. The man was unmistakable; tall, blond, with a huge savage smile that makes Law's heart stop. The last time Law had seen him was at a fundraising banquet for one of his father's insurance firms. Donquixote knew his name, he knew his parents, he knew the chief of medicine at the hospital Law left when he went to work for Whitebeard. If Donquixote remembered him, his life would be ruined.

Law turns around quickly to face the wall, he can't afford to be seen. He needs to get the hell out of here, but the blood is rushing through his head and he can't think straight. He thinks he's going into shock, which he knows in some part of his mind is absurd, but he can't even manage to let Shachi know there's something wrong.

Jean Bart and Bepo go to Marco's side, and Shachi says something about getting a drink, walking off and leaving Law alone, who can only manage to fucking nod silently. He's panicking, he knows he's panicking, and if he could just move he could get the fuck out of there and he would never see Donquixote again and it would all be fine.

“Why, if it isn't the young Trafalgar. Small world, hm?” a familiar voice says from behind him.

Law wants to scream. Instead he turns to face Doflamingo, a polite smile plastered on his face as if his worst nightmare weren't coming true, “Mr. Donquixote, how nice to see you again.” The next time he saw his mother he would have to thank her for pounding society manners into his head until they were a reflexive response.

“Oh please, call me Doflamingo. I have to admit, I never would have imagined finding you here, Law. How is your father doing? Does he know you're out here breaking curfew and rubbing shoulders with criminals?” Doflamingo leers down at Law, he clearly finds the situation all too amusing.

Law lifts his lip in the semblance of a grin, “He does not, and I would prefer to keep it that way, if you would kindly keep my identity to yourself.”

Doflamingo chuckles, “I see, this is how the little rich boy gets his kicks. Well, I won't spoil your fun! As long as you don't spoil mine...”

Law's smile feels frozen, and his mind scrambles to find something else to say that would get the man off his back.

“Hey Doc, Doflamingo,” Kid says, suddenly at Law's side. He nods at Doflamingo once, who smiles back with all his teeth. Law has never been more glad to be interrupted by that idiot.

“Marco's looking for you Doc, c'mon.” Kid gestures towards the bar with a tilt of his head, and starts walking away without waiting for a response, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Law looks between him and Doflamingo, “I suppose I'm needed. It was good to see you Mr. Donquixote, but I should go.”

“No need to be shy Law, we're practically old friends. It was my pleasure.”

Law feels himself shudder as he hurries away, he can only hope it doesn't show. The whole encounter had lasted only a minute, but his blood was flooded with adrenaline. Kid had stopped halfway across the room, and was waiting for him as Law gets close, “That guy is a fucking creep, what did he want with you?”

“He just started talking to me, I don't know what he wanted,” Law replies, attempting to sound blasé. He has to stop himself from fiddling with one of his cuff links. The last thing he needed was Eustass getting himself involved in this mess. All he had to do was continue on as normal and stay the hell away from Doflamingo, and this wouldn't turn into a problem. Easy enough, right?

“That fucker,” Kid growls low, leading Law further away. “Don't get mixed up with him, Kaido's group is a bunch of fucking psychos.”

Law sneaks a glance at Eustass, surprised by the animosity in the man's voice. Something about Doflamingo had his hackles up.

“I remember you said I was a psycho,” Law says, trying to keep the conversation light.

Kid's lip twitched like he was fighting a grin, or a snarl, “Those guys are the real deal.”

“Well I can't just tell him to fuck off, that doesn't seem like it would be effective.”

“Just don't talk to him, and if he talks to you I'll swoop in to your rescue just like that. Alright?” Eustass nudges Law with his elbow, in a way that Law assumes is meant to be comforting except it kind of hurts. The brute.

Law heaves a sigh for Kid's benefit, because clearly the man thinks it's just that simple. “Alright, Eustass.”

“I'm serious. Tell me if he bothers you again, and I'll break his freakish face.”

“My hero,” Law says wryly, wishing Eustass would drop it already. Thankfully they arrive at the bar where Killer is holding them some seats, and Eustass orders them two drinks. He waves Marco over to complete the pretense, and Law spreads his hands over the cool wood of the bartop, letting his attention drift as the two capos start talking about work and the party and whatever new business that was agreed upon in the meeting.

Could he tell Shachi and Penguin? No that would only freak them out, and there was really nothing they could do. Could he tell Eustass? Hell no, the man would go into a frenzy and cause all kinds of trouble that Law would otherwise prefer to avoid. Besides, Eustass doesn't know anything about Law's real life, he would be worse than useless in this matter. Somehow he doubted that Crocodile would lift a finger for him, and Marco had enough to worry about at the moment.

All he has to do is lay low and pretend there was absolutely no problem, and then there wouldn't be any. And he wouldn't go to any more fucking parties, he couldn't risk crossing paths with Doflamingo again. If he didn't ruin Doflamingo's “fun,” then there was no reason Doflamingo would use his identity against him. He could do that, he could avoid the gangster indefinitely.

He flags down Shachi, because he's not about to ask Eustass and risk setting off a warning light, and tells him he needs to know who Doflamingo is. Shachi asks Bepo, who reports back that Doflamingo is Kaido's damn underboss. Great, perfect, the only way it could be any worse was if Doflamingo were actually Kaido himself. Law still doesn't know who Kaido is, besides probably the most dangerous man in the country, but he has more important things on his mind now than to wonder about the man's identity.

But it's okay, he's not going to cause any trouble, and therefore no one will cause any trouble for him. It would have to be as simple as that.

His own thoughts do little to calm him down, and the glimpses he keeps catching of Doflamingo out of the corner of his eye are like sharp little tacks digging into his nerves. He hasn't even been at the party for an hour and he knows he has to get out of there before someone notices his preoccupation and thinks to question him. He doesn't know what he would say to that.

He stands up from the bar.

“Hey Doc, where you goin'?” Kid asks, spoiling his attempt at a subtle escape.

“Home,” he says curtly, smoothing down his jacket and ignoring the curious looks he's getting from Jean and Marco. “Shachi, you coming?”

“Huh?” The nurse swings around from where he's having a mostly one sided conversation with Bepo about the good old high school days. “Already? We just got here!”

“I'm bored. Find a ride if you're staying.”

“Alright, you sure?” Shachi says, with no small amount of skepticism.

Law shoots him a baleful look and he shrugs, “Okay, fine. See you tomorrow, doctor.”

“Wait, are you serious? C'mon Doc, stick around!” Kid calls as he stalks away across the room, but Law doesn't bother to respond, he just wants to be gone by now. He grits his teeth when he realizes Eustass is following him.

“What the hell?” Kid catches up to him outside the hotel's side exit despite Law's best efforts to out walk him. Damn his long sexy legs. Ah, that gives him an idea for a distraction, which will serve a convenient dual purpose of throwing Kid off the scent of what's bothering Law, and distracting Law from having a full blown panic attack as soon as he gets back to his apartment.

Law turns on his heel to face him just as Kid reaches out to grab his arm. He lets himself be caught, and turns his face up to Kid, “Didn't you hear me the first time? I'm bored, and I'm going home.” He drops his voice, as if he were wary of someone overhearing, “Unless you want to join me, you can let me go and head back inside to your crew.”

That makes Kid pause. Law tilts his head to the side coyly and looks up at him through his lashes, tugging his arm back gently without really trying to get free, “Are you going to let me go, Eustass?”

Kid studies him for a moment, though he doesn't release his hold on Law. “Is something wrong?”

Trust the man to choose this moment to get observant. Law grimaces and jerks his arm from Eustass' grip, “No, I really am going home. Goodnight, Eustass.”

“Wait, wait a sec alright? I can't just leave yet, I gotta stay like another hour or so and then I'll be there, okay?”

An hour. That could be too long, but it was certainly better than nothing.

“Fine. You have an hour, then I'm locking you out. Don't make me wait.” _Or I'll drive myself insane thinking of what a fucking IDIOT I am, thinking I was completely safe--_

Eustass smirks at him and grabs his hand, drawing it up to his mouth for a quick kiss without bothering to look around for witnesses, “Whatever you say, Doc.”

Law yanks away and glowers at Kid as he heads back into the hotel. He always had to be so.. so... infuriating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: Law is a genius is more than just the medical field. He's fluent in English, German, French, and Mandarin, and conversationally adept in Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese. Where he found the time to learn all these languages in between his rigorous coursework is unknown, he just wanted to read the latest medical journals and most interesting historical texts and was displeased with the quality of available translations. What a nerd.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slightly late update! But I hope you'll enjoy it, thanks for reading!

Law is on the couch, brooding over a very full glass of whiskey (from one of the hideously expensive bottles, special occasions and all), when Kid lets himself in through the front door. Law glances at the clock on the mantle, the man was precisely on time. It's only a small relief. Even with the liquor, his skin is still crawling with anxiety.

Kid tosses his jacket over one of the armchairs and kicks off his shoes before he flops down on the couch beside Law with a big satisfied sigh, “Ah, you missed out Doc, shit really started going nuts after you left. There was this guy, I think he was one of Big Mam's, he had this thing where he drank straight Everclear and snorted flames right out his nose-”

Law sets down his glass with a quiet clink and in one efficient motion rises up on his knees and swings his leg over Kid's hips to straddle his thighs. Kid goes still and silent, except for a little chuckle, “Woah.”

“I don't care, Eustass,” he mutters, kissing his forehead, then his cheek, pausing before finally pressing his lips to Kid's, who opens his mouth obediently and slides his hands over Law's flank. Law settles his own hands on Kid's shoulders and dips his tongue in to lap at Eustass' palate. 

Kid murmurs happily and pulls Law in until they're pressed flush together, holding him close with heavy arms wrapped around his sides. Law relaxes into the embrace, the whiskey is warm in his belly and Kid is even warmer, a solid anchor of hard muscle and eager lips that Law wants to cling to for the rest of the night. 

He pulls away with a soft bite that drags at Kid's lower lip.

“Eustass, I have an idea. I think you'll like it,” he purrs, circling one of his thumbs over the exposed ridge of Kid's collarbone. 

“Hm? Yeah?” Kid says, slightly dazed and extremely pleased from all the unexpected affection.

“How would you like to use that wonderful cock of yours on me?”

Law smirks at Kid's shell-shocked expression, and starts undoing the buttons on his shirt with nimble fingers. He gives Kid time to regain use of his words while he finishes opening his shirt and undoes Kid's belt before he pulls the shirt out from the waistband. 

“You serious? I can? Really?”

“Yes, but I don't mean that you can fuck me. Only that you can use your assets in.. other ways.”

“I'll do whatever the fuck you want,” Kid says, shrugging off of his shirt as fast as he can without dumping Law out of his lap.

“Actually,” Law drawls as he spreads his hands out on Kid's bare chest, “I want to do what you want. But I have some ideas if you're not feeling particularly imaginative tonight.”

“And it's not even my birthday. Alright, I want to hear your ideas first,” he smirks back, shifting Law around until the thickening length of his hard on is pressed against Law's.

“Well, why don't you rub that fine cock on my ass and we'll see where that gets us?” Law says, and he steps off the couch to start working on getting his own shirt off. 

Kid leans back and slings his arms over the back of the couch, “I have to say, I like the sound of that, Doc.” He leers at Law, who is just finishing off the last button on his shirt, “Hey, how about a little strip tease for me?”

Law lifts his eyebrows and undoes his belt, slowly pulling it out from the loops before tossing it away. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he slides his shirt off his shoulders, watching Kid's mouth drop open slightly as more and more skin is revealed, before he balls up the shirt and throws it at Kid's head. Then he unceremoniously drops his pants to the floor and steps out of them and puts his hands on his hips. 

“There. Ready?”

Kid laughs roughly and stands up, “You are always the worst tease. Now c'mere.” He reaches out and draws Law into another kiss, running his hands up his bare back then down over the curve of Law's ass, still covered in soft clingy shorts. Eustass gives him a squeeze there, before dipping his thumbs inside the elastic waistband and dragging them off his hips.

Law shimmies them down all the way and kicks them to the side without breaking the kiss, turning his attention to getting Eustass' pants off next, but Kid pulls away and slides his hands up the lean front of Law's chest, using his fingers to trace the black swirls of his tattoos. “You're gorgeous,” he says, reverent as a prayer. 

“So you've said,” Law replies smoothly, and smiles, but Kid's tone makes something twist inside him. 

“It's true. You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, can't believe you're real sometimes.” He punctuates the confession with a slow, sweet kiss, gentler than anything Law would have expected Eustass to be capable of. Apprehension boils in his gut. This was not how it was supposed to go, he wanted to be released from his thoughts, not add unexpected sentimentality to them. And being completely naked while Eustass was still half dressed did not help stay his awful feelings of vulnerability.

But at least if he didn't have the power to control his own thoughts, he most assuredly could control Eustass'. 

He slips his hand into the open front of Eustass' pants to grab his cock, “Why don't you tell me more with this?” he says, voice low and velvety as sin. 

Kid groans helplessly in his grasp, “Keep talking like that.” 

“Hurry up and take this big cock and grind it on me already, Eustass.”

At that Law disentangles himself from Kid's arms and picks up the bottle of lube he had left conveniently on the side table, “Use this,” he says, handing it over to Eustass who nearly drops it in his haste to grab the bottle. 

Kid jerks his chin towards the wall, “Put your hands up there and bend over.”

Law's cock twitches at the order, and he turns around, spreading his hands on the wall. He can feel Eustass' eyes on him as he steps back and tilts his hips forward, leaving himself exposed. There's a rustle as Kid rids himself of the rest of his clothes, and the click of the bottle cap opening, before Eustass' wet hands slide over his ass, thumbs dipping into the crevice between his cheeks to slick every inch. 

“Don't put your fingers in me either, Eustass,” Law warns. 

“Mmhm,” is the all the reply he gets, and Law shifts impatiently. 

Kid takes his time, massaging lube into Law's ass, running one hand up the long line of his spine and around his side to tweak his nipple. It sends a shock straight to Law's groin, and another when Kid scrapes over it with one fingernail, making Law arch his back more without noticing. Kid does notice however, and brings his other hand up from Law's hip to his chest, to pinch and tease them both into hard points. Law resists leaning his forehead to the wall, he feels his face warming from a flush, and Kid's fingers are hot on his skin where they're toying with him. 

“You just going to feel me up? Clock is ticking,” he says, a little more out of breath than intended. 

“What? Geez I didn't know there was a time limit,” Kid complains, but he drops his hands and Law can hear him opening the cap on the lube again. He must have used half the bottle by now. This time when Kid's hands return they take no detours, squeezing Law's ass roughly before spreading him open.

“Fuck,” Kid says quietly, but thankfully keeps further commentary to himself. Law was nearly shaking from the imminent end of waiting. He had wanted that hard cock rubbing against him since he had left the hotel, something heavy and hot he could focus every sense on for a while. 

Kid's fingertips skates over the rim of Law's hole, and Law knows he's watching it react but he can't help it. Kid rubs around the slick edges of his entrance some more, mesmerized by how it shudders open and shut at his touch. 

Law is impressed that Kid actually possesses the self-control not to simply shove his fingers in. He's been with enough younger men who happen to 'forget' the rules once they have him slicked up and spread open under their hands, and Law is not one to tolerate being disobeyed. He's left more than one of those men flat on their ass with a black eye and a hard on, and he might not be much of an even match for Kid but he wouldn't hesitate to toss him out the door and find an alternative, albeit less desirable, method to distract himself.

It really does feel excellent though, and he's tempted to tell Kid to just go ahead and do whatever he wants already. His hips are making little rocking motions without his consent as Kid circles his hole with one callused fingertip. The friction alone has him panting, and he's forced to choke back a moan when Kid presses his thumb over him. 

“Feels good?” Kid asks without pausing, and Law just knows he's grinning like the cheeky bastard he is.

“I told you not to-- mm-- go in,” he manages to grit out.

“I know, I know, you just really seem to like this. Are you sure you don't want it inside?”

“Is your cock not working? Use it already.” Law snaps, irritated that he had been thinking exactly that.

“Mmm yes doctor,” Kid says, agreeably switching his grip to Law's hips and pulling them back until his cock, already hard and dripping wet, finally makes contact and slides perfectly into the the crack of Law's ass. Kid starts out slow, taking the time to run the full length of his shaft between Law's cheeks as he squeezes them together around himself, watching the glide of his own cock on Law's dark skin with rapt focus. 

He can't keep up the slow pace for long, and after only a few measured strokes he's beginning to rut roughly against Law. With one shove Law's hands slip and his elbows bang into the wall. Kid follows him right after, moving him resolutely forward until Law is pressed tight to the wall, hips held still, his body kept in place with Kid's solid form surrounding him from behind. He has to turn his head, resting his cheek on the flat surface to keep his face from being smacked into it, and over his shoulder he has just enough room to watch Eustass' face furrowed in concentration. 

Eustass looks lost to instinct, his eyes dark where they're locked on where their bodies are rubbing together, the snap of his hips automatic and relentless as he grinds himself hard against the curve of Law's ass. He doesn't even notice his nails are digging into the skin around Law's hipbones, a fantastic sting to complement the thick pressure of his cock. Sweat is starting to shine on his forehead, and a bead slips down the side of his face and over his jaw. 

Law tracks it intently. He'd like to turn and lick it off, and maybe continue licking down Eustass' neck, but he's very much enjoying being rutted into the wall by the man and is not about to make him change their position. Kid takes a last step forward, closing the small gap between them, his chest pressing into Law's back and practically crushing him. Law's own cock is trapped between himself and the wall, left with what friction he can manage to get by a small rock of his hips. He's positive he's creating a wet smear of precome there, which might be impossible to clean later. 

Still, he can't care about it, or anything else. He wouldn't mind staying in this position for hours with Eustass grinding that wonderful cock on him, even though he can't take in a full breath and his neck is starting to twinge. 

Eustass feels like a furnace behind him, skin slipping together with a combination of his sweat and the lube he had poured all over Law, his cock like a thick brand fucking steadily into the narrow space left between the cheeks of Law's ass. Law is completely surrounded, covered, and _used_ by Eustass, he can let himself melt under the pressure and weight and heat of the man. His own legs have given up on standing, his body being supported entirely by the wall and Eustass' hands that are keeping him from moving an inch in any direction. 

Eustass starts to mouth the join of his neck and shoulder, wetting the skin before his teeth scrape over the same spot, too softly to leave a mark. He noses into Law's damp hairline next, and pulls Law's earrings playfully with his lips, then licks underneath his earlobe, the same way he remembers making Law's head fall to the side in silent approval. It does the trick again, Law sighs appreciatively and rocks backwards into him at an angle that makes his balls tighten. The doctor is so reserved that it takes every ounce of Kid's seriously limited attention to pick up on his reactions, but they're there. A nip below his jaw makes his ass flex, a sucking kiss on the first knob of his spine is rewarded with a shallow shimmy of his hips, and a gentle bite over his piercings is the best response, an almost silent moan. 

It draws an answering rumble from deep in Kid's chest, and he regains enough control to slow down to a steady pace, “Shit, you sound so hot. Why don't you make some more noise for me, hm?”

Law's lip curls, his least favorite thing to do during sex is hearing himself sound like a slutty porn flick. 

“Don't push your luck. Show me you can make this good and I might even let you fuck me one day.”

“Mm you love talking down to me like this, don't you,” Kid punctuates the observation with another heavy thrust, “With my cock spreading your ass wide open. I could fuck you right now, I bet you'd love that even more.” He takes a step back and pulls Law towards him by the hips, tilting them into a position where he can drag the head of his cock over Law's hole. 

“I doubt you'd last a second,” Law says, shifting to lean on his forearms. 

“Maybe, wanna try me?” 

Law can feel the hard edge of Kid's grin against the side of his neck. He arches his back, pushing his ass against Kid, a dare for him to cross the line. 

“Do it and it'll be the last fuck of your life.”

Kid chuckles and stands up straight, grabbing his cock to reposition it between Law's thighs before settling his hand back on Law's hip. There's less slick there, and when Law obliges him by bringing his legs together the push and drag is almost unbearably perfect. 

“Shit, you feel so good...” he mutters, mostly to himself. 

“Don't stop yet, Eustass.”

“I'm not stopping,” he says, though moving the slightest amount is driving him crazy. “Ah-- fuck! Don't do that!” Law squeezes his thighs together again, sliding them over Eustass' cock until his ass is pressed to Kid's groin. 

“Ah, ahh you-- fucking bastard,” Kid hisses through his teeth. That little move has him throbbing. He has to use one hand to grip the base of his cock, putting the other on the small of Law's back to stop him from forcing him to come. 

Law twists around to smirk at him over his shoulder, “What's wrong? Your stamina is pretty low if you can't take this much.”

“Shut up,” Kid says, and Law falls into amused silence. His eyes are shut tight, even Law's silky taunts are pushing him to the brink. Just looking at the man he had forced against the wall might be enough to do it. The rush of pleasure ebbs away, and he takes a deep breath then gives a cautious roll of his hips to make sure he's not about to spill. When he's positive he can take a little more he lets go of himself and relaxes again, pushing himself all the way back between Law's thighs with one stroke. His shaft is rubbing against the soft underside of Law's package, making Law's back shudder with every thrust, so Kid reaches around to take him in hand. He presses his thumb against the tip and Law bucks with a surprised “Ah!”

Kid forces himself to go slowly, sliding into the tight squeeze of Law's legs while pulling his cock in time. Law is panting openly, his head bowed low between his shoulders where he can watch the smooth twist and flex of Eustass touching him with a pale hand that's shining wet with lube and precome. He would regret teasing Eustass since it seems that made him get serious about bringing them both off, except now he just wants to fuck into the slick circle of Kid's fist until he's done. 

He can feel his orgasm rising up further on each stroke, the persistent glide of Eustass' cock against his balls becoming sweeter and sweeter as they grow taut and heavy. His knees are starting to tremble and his thighs are aching from being held tightly shut for so long. Eustass is breathing raggedly behind him, clearly back at the brink himself, the smooth rocking of his hips turning erratic and off-beat as he tries to resist his own release only a little longer.

“More.. like that-- Eustass--” Law tries to tell him when one stroke rubs just the right way, but the sound of Law half-moaning his name sends Kid falling straight over the edge.

“Oh fuck- fuck, motherfucker,” he gasps as he loses it in an instant, painting the inside of Law's thighs with streaks of come. His fist clenches painfully tight around Law's cock, and that's the end of Law's restraint as well. 

Orgasm hits him hard, and seems to last forever as it rocks through him in warm crashing waves. He's left nearly clinging to the wall just to keep standing, with Kid draped over his back, face pressed into his shoulder. Law elbows him off before he collapses under the sheer weight of the man, and Eustass takes a few staggered steps to make it to the couch, which he flops onto with a contented groan. 

Law grimaces at the wet spot he left on the wall as much as the unpleasant feeling of being slippery from the waist down, and immediately heads into his bathroom for a shower. His thoughts don't wander very far as he scrubs himself over, really he feels much better. Doflamingo seems far off, the dull pang of a healing wound. The adrenaline has been worked out of his system, leaving him exhausted and his muscles aching. Or maybe that was from being shoved into a wall. The power of Eustass' cock was truly amazing. He's still a bit jittery, but that would wear off with time; he could deal with it on his own. He might even be able to get a few hours of sleep after he manages to kick Eustass out. 

That proves to be its own challenge. Eustass is dead to the world by the time Law returns to the sitting room with a towel wrapped around his hips. Kid has one muscled arm crossed over his eyes to block out the light, and the other slung across his stomach. His left foot is on the floor, the right hanging well off the couch arm. He's settled like a ton of bricks into the cushions, unashamedly naked.

“Eustass. Wake up.” Nothing.

Law jabs him in the ribs with one bony finger and gets no response. Next he tries shaking him by the shoulder. What kind of terrible gangster couldn't wake up at a moment's notice? It would be all too easy to kill him in his sleep. 

He tries one more time, “Eustass, get the fuck up!” It doesn't work. Law goes to the kitchen and fills a glass of water. 

Eustass gets up quickly enough after 12 oz of water is administered to his head.

“Wha- the fuck!!” he sputters, flailing around so much he almost falls to the floor. 

Law stands back out of the way, “Take a shower, Eustass. You're filthy.”

“Are you trying to fuckin' drown me here! Jesus!”

“Stop complaining,” Law says. He's not in the mood to be patient, he's tired and that makes him very irritable. And he is not going to sleep until Eustass is out of the way.

Kid glares at him, but the effect is ruined by his dripping wet hair. Still, he looks about ready to beat somebody into an unrecognizable pulp. Somebody who is currently standing with his arms crossed indifferently over his chest. 

Law frowns at him. If Eustass had thought he would turn nice after sex, he was sorely mistaken, “I'm not letting you sleep here Eustass, you need to leave.”

Kid's jaw twitches as he tries to figure out whether Law is being serious or not. When the other man doesn't so much as hint that he's joking around, he pushes off the couch and stomps in the direction of the bathroom, cursing under his breath. What a shitty way to end the night.

Law picks up his whiskey, still waiting on the coffee table, and takes a drink. He sits down in one of the armchairs, since the couch is a bit damp now, and waits.

Kid comes back out after a short time, clean and rubbing his hair dry with a towel. He's scowling, but most of his anger had steamed off in the shower. Now he's just resigned to the fact Law is one of the biggest assholes he knows. He tosses the wet towel on the floor and goes around the room picking up his clothes. He can't find one of his socks so he forgoes them entirely, and when he's done getting dressed he stops in front of Law.

“So, what. You didn't like it?”

Law looks up at him over the rim of his glass, “On the contrary, Eustass. That was just what I needed.”

“Then why are you being such a prick now, huh?”

Law studies him before answering. Eustass seems tired, too. Not overflowing with confidence for once. Maybe he could have been less abrupt in dealing with him, he did want to repeat this in the future after all. But it still irked him. As much as he would have enjoyed taking the man down a peg in other circumstances, this was reminding him uncomfortably of his last breakup. 

“I didn't think of you as man that needed coddling. It was only sex, it's not like we're dating.”

Kid sneers and his eyes go hard, and Law feels an unfamiliar twinge of guilt. Ugh, what was that for, he had just stated the facts and Eustass looked like he'd been spat on. He wasn't going to apologize, it wasn't his fault if Eustass' expectations had been set too high. And really, what had he been expecting? That they would snuggle up together afterwards, kiss and exchange 'I love you's, then go to brunch in the morning? Not fucking likely. Law had never done that, even with men he actually dated. 

Although, his exes had frequently accused him of being a cold heartless bastard. Maybe it was true, or maybe most people, like Eustass, were too needy and expected too much from him. Either way, he was not about to start oozing love and affection or pampering hurt feelings. Perhaps he had spoiled Eustass a bit by letting him stay until morning the last time, but that was different. Tonight he wanted to be alone, and he didn't see the need to explain himself to the man. It was his apartment, he'd do as he liked, and Eustass could just deal with it. 

Now that line of self-justification really did make it feel like they were dating. Damn it, on tonight of all nights. All he wanted was a decent fuck and Eustass had to take it all so personally. Was no-strings-attached such a hard concept to understand? 

Law only gets more irritated the more he thinks about it. 

“Fine, whatever, I'm leaving. I don't know what's going on in that twisted up head of yours Doc, but next time use your fucking words.” With one last narrow glare Eustass leaves Law to sit alone, letting the front door shut loudly behind him. 

Law lets out his breath in a huff, then tosses back the last of the whiskey. 

He doesn't know what to make of Eustass' reaction. Law had never seen that cold look before, at least not turned on him. Eustass had always shrugged off insults with the good humor of an idiot and come back for more. Was he that pissed off about the water? Or maybe because Law hadn't given him any praise over his performance? Had he actually thought they were dating? Each of those reasons seemed too absurd to be the truth. He couldn't know anything about Doflamingo, if he did he would've been worrying at Law like a stubborn dog.

Why was he even thinking about this. Eustass was a simple man, he didn't need to stay awake trying to figure him out. 

He considers pouring himself another dose, then decides it would be no use. Instead he gets up, snaps off the lights, and goes to his bedroom, letting the towel fall from his waist before sliding in between the sheets. He's so tired he can feel it seeping over him like a fog, a few minutes later and he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Many exes ago one of Law's boyfriends (a soccer player on the national team who shall not be named) told Law he loved him. Law laughed and told him to stop calling. USA lost the cup that year.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait, beloved readers. I expect chapters from this point out will be released at weird intervals, so sorry in advance for that as well. 
> 
> Warning: Please be aware the second scene of this chapter contains some slightly detailed descriptions of injuries resulting from torture.

Law is sulking. He knows he's sulking, and that just makes him sulk more. After the night of the party he was confident that Kid would show up the next day, preferably to grovel at his feet and beg forgiveness for overreacting, but then a few days pass with no sign of the man, so Law figures he would show up eventually and act like nothing happened. By Friday though, it doesn't seem like that is going to happen either. Eustass hasn't called him or gone by the clinic in five days, and Law is getting noticeably agitated. 

Shachi picks up on it by the second day, and starts to suspect the cause on the third day when a certain someone is conspicuously absent.

He casually brings it up when there aren't any clients around and they're alone in the clinic, hoping that Law might actually open up for once and get back to his normal self instead of scaring the patients. 

“So, Doc, I haven't seen that guy around lately, what's up with that?”

Law sniffs, “I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“Yeah you do, that redhead that you've got wrapped around your little finger. Did you break up with him or something?” 

Unfortunately for Shachi, mentioning a break up was the wrong thing to say.

Law turns positively arctic, “I am not in the mood for any meaningless bullshit today, kindly keep it to yourself.”

“Wow, okay then, touchy subject, got it.” So, that's how it was going to be. 

He can't help asking again the next day, however. This time he tries while they're out to lunch. He can tell something is seriously bothering Law, since the doctor isn't complaining about Shachi's choice in restaurant, or the service, or the food, only sullenly taking little bites of his salad. It's very disconcerting. The man was usually withdrawn, but he hadn't seen him this distracted since that time they lost a kid on the operating table in the trauma ward, and even then he didn't brood over it for a week straight. Shachi honestly suspected the guy's heart was made of stone. So what the hell did Eustass Kid do to him? 

Halfway through eating, Shachi has decided he's waited long enough, “Hey Doc, I was talking to Killer-”

Law's head snaps ups, “Since when do you talk to Killer?” 

Shachi waves his fork dismissively, “Oh you know, we text every now and then. Well, I text him. He doesn't really respond. But sometimes he does! Anyway, he said they're gonna be at the bar tonight, and I was thinking of quitting early and heading over, wanna go?”

“Definitely not! And stop talking to Killer, it's unprofessional!” The irony in him of all people saying that is glaring. Law stabs a tomato and goes back to not talking. 

Shachi rolls his eyes so hard his head almost falls off, but he doesn't argue. Law is clearly set on acting like a moody teenager about this. And Killer has been no help either because he and Kid never talk about their feelings, or whatever. He's surrounded by men who have the emotional intelligence of rocks. 

After lunch he texts Killer that the plan was a no-go (Killer just says 'I told you so,' like an asshole) and starts thinking of what angle to try next.

\---

That night Shachi leaves early without making another attempt to pry Law out for drinks, and Law is in his office at the clinic staring at paperwork with no real urge to finish it when he gets a call. The screen says it's Kid's number, he looks at it for a few rings and then answers. If that man was planning to try and persuade him into going to that shitty bar he was barking up the wrong fucking tree.

“Yes, Eustass?”

“It's Killer.” Oh. Hmph. Law slumps back into the chair after realizing his eager posture.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Killer.”

“We need you to come to us, there's a.. patient that's unconscious and he needs to be resuscitated. I'll send you the address.”

“Alright, I'll leave now. What's the injury?” 

“Head trauma, among other things,” Killer says.

It already sounds strange. For one, Killer didn't mention who this 'patient' was, so it couldn't be one of Kid's crew. For another, Killer was using Kid's phone when surely his own was fully functional. Finally, why didn't they just bring the patient over to the clinic, and weren't they supposed to be out at the bar like Shachi said? Oh well, work's work. Eustass would be there, it would be an opportunity to see what the hell the man had been doing all week that prevented him from making a single phone call. 

It takes Law about 20 minutes to drive to the location, which turns out to be some derelict warehouse near the docks on the edge of the city. Killer opens the side door for him when he knocks, and Law looks around with a small measure of apprehension.

The room is pretty empty, there's some desks and office chairs pushed against the walls, and in the middle is a card table littered with beer cans and a half empty bottle of scotch. Kid is lazing on a folding chair at the table, sucking on a cigarette. His jacket is slung over the back of another chair, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows. Law can see blood smeared red over his knuckles, after a half-assed attempt to wipe them clean. His eyes flick over to Law when he enters, but they don't linger; he doesn't give so much as a smirk. 

So that's how it was going to be. Well, at least he wasn't acting like nothing had happened. Law looks him over coolly, since Eustass wasn't going to acknowledge him he might as well get an eyeful.

He hadn't seen Kid so serious before, not even when Heat had come in with a broken leg. Back then Eustass had been angry, brimming with loose energy that was ready to lash out. Now he reminded Law of a snake, cold-blooded power kept tightly coiled and controlled. He looks lethal.

Law can't help thinking of the last time he saw him. Cold eyes. That must have been just a glimpse of the rest of the picture. It was difficult to reconcile this version of Kid with the swaggering nuisance that characterized the Eustass in Law's mind; clearly the man had unexpected depths. It puts a bit of a damper on Law's self-righteous annoyance. 

Killer leads Law past Kid and into the next room, where his patient—their victim, he realizes now—is curled up on the floor in a disgusting puddle of what seems to be blood and vomit. Law glances at Killer but can't find a hint of how he's supposed to take this, so he sets down his bag of supplies and gets to work. 

He drags the limp body out of its own filth and rolls him onto his back so he can check for vitals. The man's face is swollen and bruised with a deep cut on his temple, both eyes blackened, many of his front teeth are broken as well. One of his hands is mangled, like it was crushed by a boot heel. Law tears open his shirt to find more severe bruising, and the man moans when his ribs are pressed. 

Besides the broken hand, teeth, and probably more than a few cracked ribs, the man's pulse is strong and his breathing is shallow but steady. Law can't find evidence of a concussion either, after peeling back his eyelids and checking his pupils, and tells as much to Killer, who stayed in the room to watch Law work silently. 

Law sits back on his heels when the examination is complete, “He probably lost consciousness from the pain. I'd suspect the teeth are what put him over the edge. How long has he been out?”

“About forty minutes,” Killer says.

“Well he's not in danger of dying from these injuries.”

“When's he gonna wake up so we can keep working on him?”

Law looks up. Kid is filling up the doorway, looking at the man on the floor with an intent expression that makes Law shiver reflexively. He hadn't heard the door open. 

“I can use ammonium to revive him now, but I couldn't tell you how long he'd stay up. I have a liquid analgesic that might dull the pain in his teeth enough so he won't immediately pass out.”

Kid bares his teeth, a disturbing expression halfway between a snarl and a smile, “I like how you think, Doc. A real problem solver. Do it.”

Law does. 

He applies the painkiller generously over the bleeding remains of the man's teeth before he breaks open a capsule of ammonium and waves it under his nose. The man jerks away after a moment and groans pitifully, trying to curl up on himself again. Kid squats down in front of the man's face with a sneer. 

“Welcome back, Rawls. Feeling better?”

Rawls moans and pants and tries to flop away, but Eustass grabs his hair with a fist before he can get very far.

“That's great, let's just start where we left off then.” He shoots Law a dark look, keeping his prey's face pinned to the floor, and Law takes that as his cue to leave. He grabs his bag and is quickly out the door. 

He stops by Killer sitting in Kid's vacated seat on the way out, “Should I stay?”

“No. A few more of those wake up pills might be useful, though.”

Law places a packet of the ammonium capsules on the table, enough to keep Rawls more or less lucid for the rest of the night, then hesitates. He knows it's not a good idea to ask questions, especially in these circumstances, but...screw it. “What's all this for anyway?” he has to ask. 

Killer looks at Law directly, and seems to consider him for a moment. Law holds his gaze, determined to get something for his trouble.

“He talked to the wrong people. Crocodile wants to know what he said.”

Too vague. “And you and Kid? This is what you do?” 

Killer shrugs a shoulder, “Sometimes.”

“Not always?” Law says, still unsatisfied. Killer was difficult to prod.

Killer nods towards the room, where muffled cries are starting to leak through the door, “Ask him yourself.”

Law switches his attention to the door, where he can imagine Eustass is working methodically to extract more information from Rawls. He wonders whether it was Kid or Killer who crushed the man's hand and shattered his teeth. 

“You know, torture doesn't guarantee legitimate information,” he says offhand.

Killer gives another lazy roll of his shoulder in response, apparently he did already know that. Law watches the door for a minute, finally leaving when Rawls starts wailing. He's not sure if he will ask Eustass or not. He does want to know.

\---

Law spends the next day mulling it over.

The evidence of Kid's cruelty didn't shake him nearly as much as seeing Eustass without an easy grin and a suggestive remark. It was like a layer had been peeled back to reveal a new distinct personality entirely. It occurs to him that it had been the first time he had really seen Eustass working. Was that what he was like all the time on the job? This is who he had been playing around with?

It wasn't like he hadn't known Eustass hurt people for a living. He had figured the man spent his nights tracking down sleazy men who ran up gambling debts and then skipped out on their loans, and Kid would make some threats, rough them up, and come back later to collect. Not like this calculated torment in a back room. This was... admittedly much more interesting. He had been looking at Eustass all wrong, he wasn't merely the annoying but useful mutt he had originally thought.

He gets out of the clinic at 2:30 AM, after finishing up a final set of supply request forms. Shachi had already left an hour ago, there wasn't anything to do besides the forms and they all needed doctor's approval. He locks the door and turns towards his car, but he's quickly distracted by the dark figure leaning against the wall. It's Kid, suit jacket folded over one arm, shirt unbuttoned at the collar with the sleeves rolled up, no tie as usual, and he's casually smoking a cigarette. He looks over with a half grin as Law exits the building, "Hey, Doc." 

Law stops in the entryway and eyes him suspiciously. The mobster cut an intimidating figure during  
the day, but in poor lighting he was downright sinister. "Eustass. What are you doing out here?" 

Kid pushes off the wall and takes a few short steps until he's crowding into Law's personal space. "What's it look like I'm doing?" he asks mildly, as if he hadn't just deliberately cut off any graceful exits Law could have made, and takes another drag off his cigarette.

Law sighs, "You appear to be loitering. If you needed something from me I would recommend you come inside the building, during normal clinic hours."

Kid blows a lungful of smoke to the side without taking his eyes off Law. "I wanted a smoke, and you don't allow that inside. I might have expected a little gratitude for being so considerate, but I already know what a prick you are."

Law glances around Kid's sides to scan the dark parking lot, completely unmoved by Kid's aggressive posturing. "How did you even get here? I don't see your car."

"Killer dropped me off. Speaking of, how about a ride? You're leaving now, right?"

"I'm not driving you home.”

Kid finally closes the last bit of distance between them, looming in to plant his free hand on the wall and crushing out his cigarette on a brick right next to Law's head. “Yeah, I was thinkin' we'd go to your place actually.”

Law bats his eyelashes, “You're not scary enough to convince me.”

Eustass smiles, looking like a dog ready to lunge, but he leans down slowly and presses a kiss to Law's lips instead. And another. And five more. Law accepts them all graciously, but stops Kid from deepening the kisses or from reaching behind him to grope his ass. Eustass breaks away and nuzzles at Law's cheek, “I didn't want to scare you away, sweetheart. In fact, I wanna do something good for you.” He slides his hand around to the front of Law's jeans and rubs the heel of his palm over Law's crotch. 

Law sucks in a breath. He had hardly allowed Eustass to touch him like this, preferring to be in control of them both. But the idea is tempting... and Kid did finally come and find him, maybe he owed him a little. It doesn't take long for Kid's confident rubbing to make up his mind.

“Alright, but this better be good, Eustass.”

Kid chuckles low, and his tongue flicks out to lick at Law's earrings, “Yes, darling.”

\---

The drive back to his apartment takes forever. Neither of them talk, Kid spends most of the time looking out the window at the passing city, giving him only a glance and a little smirk every now and then. Law can't tell what he's thinking, or where all this patience is coming from. The first time Kid had driven him home he had been pawing at him nonstop. It's testing his own patience, he's been hard since Kid had felt him up outside the clinic and the anticipation for more is grating his nerves.

The tense silence continues in the elevator as they ride up to his floor. Law can feel the other man's presence at his side as a palpable thing, so close but still not touching. Every second he's expecting Eustass to snap and push him into the wall and finally _take_ what he's been waiting for ever since Law saw him last night with blood on his hands. His head is buzzing with all the possible scenarios, but Eustass still holds back. 

The moment they step through the front door, however, Kid's restraint evaporates, then his hands are on Law's hips pulling him closer, getting under his clothes to roam over bare skin. The tension bursts open all at once, it makes lust jump in Law's belly, and he hurries to return the favor and undo the buttons of Kid's shirt, but the man grabs his wrist and drags him straight to the bedroom instead. 

Law laughs, feeling giddy from Kid's eagerness, and allows himself to be led along, “Impatient, are we?”

“I've been thinking about doing this all week,” Kid says as he gets back to tugging off Law's shirt and pants before he picks him up and unceremoniously drops him on the bed, “You really know how to piss a guy off, Doc.” Law smiles at him slowly, it sounds a bit like a threat and he's really looking forward to how Kid is planning to pay him back. He stretches out over the sheets, savoring the way Kid's gaze never leaves his body.

Kid kicks off his shoes and joins him a moment later without taking off the rest of his clothes, trapping Law between his hands and knees and the mattress. Law can't bring himself to raise a single protest, Kid already has his mouth on him, scraping teeth over the lines of tattoos on his chest. 

Law twists under the rough attention, and Kid uses both hands to pin him down and keep him from squirming around. He bites at the soft skin of Law's stomach, bared to his teeth and making his breath hitch, then licks over the spot. Kid moves lower, mouthing over the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel. Oh, he can't possibly be thinking of doing that. 

Kid closes his mouth over the head of Law's cock, and Law jumps, surprised despite himself. 

“Ah—hey!” Law finds himself reaching to bury his hands in Kid's hair, but he doesn't pull him off. Kid glances up at him for just a second, before he takes hold around the base of Law's length and sucks, hard. It's too much, it almost hurts, and it's making his toes curl against the sheets. Law's head drops back into the pillows with a groan. 

Kid is relentless, swallowing him down and using his tongue when he has to take a breath. Even when giving head he's not the least bit submissive, Law feels like he's about to be devoured. Kid's not nearly as careful with his teeth as he could be, but that only makes it better. The sweet edge of pain is so _perfect_ it has Law's nerves melting all up his spine. 

He grabs fistfuls of Kid's hair and drags his head down onto his cock until Kid chokes and has to pull off, but that doesn't deter him at all and a second later he's sucking and licking on the head of Law's cock again, stroking the shaft with one spit slick fist. When he tries the same trick again Kid won't allow it, his eyes flash up to meet Law's and he grins defiantly around a mouthful of cock. 

Law groans in frustration, he can barely keep his eyes open to watch. Kid obviously intends to not give him another inch until he's begging for it. He must have had a hundred blowjobs from people with better technique, but the way Kid is holding him down and sucking his cock like it's going to be taken away any minute is driving him crazy. 

It leaves him panting, trying to thrust deeper into Kid's hot mouth, but Kid keeps him still with just one hand on his hip and doesn't swallow him deeper no matter how hard Law pulls on his hair. Law is helpless to do anything but allow Kid to continue as he pleases, and Kid seems pleased to spend the rest of the night making Law take this, forcing out quiet moans and gasps that Law can't hold back anymore. 

At this point Law can't even care that he's relinquished all control and is starting to sound like he's starving for it, he's fully content to whine and writhe underneath Kid until the other man is satisfied enough by toying with him to let him come. His legs close around Kid's chest, trying to urge him to do more, but fails to achieve his desired response once again. He's got his fists twisted so tightly in Kid's hair that it has to hurt, yet Kid ignores all his silent demands and just keeps pumping his cock in between tormenting him with lips and tongue. 

Eventually Law doesn't have the smallest inhibition left to surrender. If Eustass wants him to beg before he comes, he can do a little begging. 

“Eustass, come on...” he sighs, an almost inaudible plea. 

Kid stops and looks up, “Huh? Speak up, Doc.” He gives his fist a twist around Law's cock and swipes his thumb over the soaking wet tip. 

Law keens and his hips jerk uselessly under Kid's hand, “Mm ahh- I can't- give me more already!” 

“You sound good like this,” Kid says, watching Law's face screw up as he strokes him again more slowly. He's enjoying it too much to just give Law whatever he wants like he usually does. Having the shithead doctor literally in his grasp is exactly what he'd been imagining for the past week, making all those fantastic little noises that he usually hordes all to himself, at the mercy of whatever whims Kid can dream up. He wants to take everything Law has been holding back.

He lets go of Law's cock and slides his hand between the doctor's legs, pressing his slick fingertips to the tight furrowed muscle of Law's hole. Kid rubs him insistently, remembering how responsive Law had been to being touched there last time but not letting him go further, and Law pants and squirms against him, his hands finally slipping out of Kid's hair to grab the bed frame above his head. 

Kid takes the opportunity to sit up in a better position, and Law's legs fall open around him, giving him a great view of his cock leaking onto his flat stomach, his balls drawn up tight underneath, and one of Kid's fingers ready to push into his ass. Kid doesn't want to even breathe, it almost seems too perfect to be real: Law spread out in front of him, the picture of pure sex, ready for whatever he wants to give. 

“More of this, yeah?” Kid asks, teasing at his entrance. 

“Yes!” Law hisses, arching up to try and get closer, but Kid doesn't relent, “Eustass, please!” 

Hearing that word drop from Law's mouth is too sweet to resist, Kid presses all the way inside and Law squeezes down around him.

“So fucking tight,” Kid murmurs, pulling out a bit before thrusting back in. He strokes into the smooth heat as it clutches around him, pushing in another finger when Law opens enough for it to fit, and Law's whole body shudders beautifully when he twists them inside. 

Kid bends down to mouth over Law's cock, it looks too delicious lying there untouched, and Law's hips practically leap up to meet him.

“Oh please, please more--” Law gasps, breaking off into an open moan and throwing his head back when Kid obliges and swallows him down, thrusting into him faster at the same time, a shallow imitation of how he would like to be fucking him. 

Law can stand only a few seconds trapped between Kid's mouth and fingers before he realizes he's going to come. He pushes at Kid's shoulder to warn him, unable to manage words in the moment, and Kid pulls away just in time to receive a smear of cum across his lips. He licks them reflexively, watching mesmerized as the rest of Law's orgasm pulses out onto his belly, then wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. 

When the show is over Kid slips his fingers free, quickly unbuckles his belt and shoves his pants down, and drapes himself over Law, grinding his own untouched erection into Law's thigh. Law turns his head to reject the kiss Kid attempts to plant on him, he might love sucking cock but the taste of himself on another man is a different story. Kid eagerly switches to the corner of his jaw instead, kissing and sucking down Law's neck as he keeps a leisurely pace rutting against him right through his own climax. 

Law is just catching his breath when Kid finishes and buries his face into the crook of Law's neck, nosing against damp skin with a sigh, utterly content. Law smooths down his hair that's sticking up in every direction from being grabbed and pulled, and Eustass murmurs something unintelligible into his shoulder. It makes a grin quirk at the corner of Law's mouth, after all the control and dominance it was endearing how quickly Eustass sank into his usual sleepy aftermath.

He pushes a bit until Eustass untangles himself and shifts over into a position that isn't squashing Law into the bed, and Kid loops an arm over his waist to keep them pulled close together, settling his head back on Law's shoulder close enough to plant some lazy kisses on his neck.

Law can feel cum cooling sticky on his skin but the urge to take a shower doesn't win out against enjoying the easy warmth offered by Eustass. He keeps petting Kid's hair idly, “So, was that the first time you've done that?”

Kid chuckles, more of a deep rumble that Law can feel from his chest, and mumbles against Law's neck, “Yep. Lucky you, huh?”

“I could tell,” Law smirks where Kid can't see it.

He feels Kid's indignant huff, “Wow, thanks asshole. Just shut up.”

Law pats his head teasingly, “It wasn't that bad,” he says, “I suppose being your first makes up for you avoiding me all week.” 

“You were the one avoiding me!” Kid grumbles, his arm tightening around Law as if to prevent him from getting away again, “If Killer hadn't knocked that guy out I bet you would've done it forever too.”

“Hmm, Killer did that?” 

“Yeah, I didn't want to call your moody ass either, but he did it anyway.”

So where Shachi had failed to get them in the same room, Eustass' man had succeeded, though with some collateral damage. Law might have been annoyed at Killer setting him up if he weren't currently so satisfied by the reconciliation that had resulted. He could be annoyed later.

He tugs on Eustass' hair and the man lifts his head enough for Law to kiss him, which he does.

“Well, am I forgiven?” he says after pulling away.

“I don't remember you apologizing for anythin'” Kid says, before he yawns right in Law's face.

Law frowns at him, then leans in for another kiss, this one firmer and more demanding, and Eustass submits amiably enough. This time when he breaks it Eustass is left with a sappy smile. Kid cracks an eye open, “I guess that's all I'm getting from you, eh?” He stretches out and relaxes back into the pillows, settling down to sleep, “Good enough for me.” 

With that he snuggles his face back into Law's shoulder, obviously intending for Law to stay with him in bed while he slept. Law didn't plan on it, he'd slip out of Eustass' clutches to go take a shower eventually, but for now he didn't mind letting Eustass fall asleep on him for a little while.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Notes Regarding Some Things Related to Events in This Chapter: 
> 
> This is a fictional work and Kid's actions are not intended as a model of good or appropriate behavior. He smokes, does drugs, and occasionally kills people for money. In short, he is a Very Bad Man. This author also smokes, does drugs, and will refrain from commenting on that last part, so that's not to say the reader should be a total square, but please be aware of the risks and consequences involved with these kinds of behaviors. For example, do not post about your crimes on the internet without taking appropriate precautions to protect your identity, the cops can read it too. 
> 
> In addition, this author does not believe that people with gambling addictions deserve to be taken advantage of by highly predatory loan practices, or punished with extortion and violence as a result. Please treat individuals with addictions with kindness and respect, as addiction is not a character defect or a moral failing (of course, having an addiction does not excuse harming others). If you are struggling with addiction, or have a friend or family member who is, I encourage you to learn more and seek whatever level of support you're comfortable with from loving and tolerant places. 
> 
> Ahem, and just to be clear, this author also does not advocate pursuing romantic interests at their place of employment or after they have expressed a lack of interest, even if that person seems like the greatest thing since sliced bread. That is sexual harassment. 
> 
> Stay cool & be well, readers.

Kid wakes up the next morning with the sun already shining on his face through the half open blinds of the bedroom windows. He groans and stretches before rolling over and burying into the pillows, but when a few minutes pass and he's still not asleep he gives up and flops onto his back again. It's no surprise that he's alone, though Kid frowns at the empty room anyway. The apartment is quiet, so many floors up that the noise from the street doesn't reach it, unlike his own place. 

He'd only slept over at the doc's place once before, and that time he had woken up to the smell of fresh coffee and the faint tapping of the doc's laptop keys. Today it's so quiet that he assumes the doc has already left for work, or whatever he gets up to during the day. 

He leans over the edge of the bed and snags his jacket from where it's been crumpled on the floor since he dropped it last night, grabbing his phone to check the time since apparently owning a clock would mess up the doc's fancy minimalist interior decorating scheme. 

It's only half past nine, but Killer has already left him two messages reminding him that Crocodile has called for a meeting tonight. Kid scowls, of course he remembers, Killer had only mentioned it twenty fucking times already, and sends back a message telling his second-in-command to pick him up. With that done, he rolls out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom to wash up a bit so he's not smelling like a one night stand for the ride home. He borrows the doc's toothbrush, figuring it's only fair since he had the guy's cock in his mouth a few hours ago, and hops in the shower for a quick scrub, then towels off and wanders out in the direction of the kitchen without bothering to get dressed. 

He's not actually expecting to find anything in there, the doctor seems to subsist solely on coffee and the souls of innocent young men like himself and has no need for ordinary food, and he's looking more for something to do until Killer shows up. What he finds instead is much more interesting.

The doctor has not, in fact, left the building. Instead he's in the living room, laying on the couch in pj pants and a long-sleeved tee, with a book open on his chest, fast asleep. There's a mug of stone cold coffee on the table nearby, the doc must have been out for at least an hour or two. 

Kid sidles up, silent as possible, and crouches down next to his head. The doctor looks surprisingly young, and vulnerable, with none of the sharpness that has defined all the months Kid had known him. 

Kid watches, fighting the urge to touch because no doubt it would wake him up, and Kid doesn't want to ruin such a nice moment. And no doubt the doctor would be pissed off that someone, let alone Kid, caught him unaware for once, and that would be a shitty way to leave after what had been such a great night otherwise. So Kid just admires the dark curl of his eyelashes and the gentle rise and fall of his chest for a few minutes, until he realizes what he's doing is incredibly sappy and kind of weird.

He gets up reluctantly, still trying to stay quiet to avoid waking the doctor up, and goes back to the bedroom to put on his clothes from last night. When he checks his phone again Killer has already messaged him to say he's waiting downstairs. He must have spent longer than he thought watching the doctor sleep. That really wasn't like him, he wasn't normally a guy prone to disgusting bouts of voyeurism, but the doc seems to bring out the worst in him. 

Kid gets stuck looking at him again on the way to the door despite his best efforts to leave without a trace. The doc really was beautiful, even more so when he was all relaxed and unguarded like this, though Kid wouldn't deny enjoying when he was awake and lacing every word with an extra dose of 'fuck you.' 

To be fair, he'd been stuck on the doctor since the beginning. That first night the knife hadn't even come close to him, but the doc's eyes were so vicious, in stark contrast to his freezing cold words, it felt like Kid was being burned alive from three feet away. 

He had no idea someone could do that to him, or why he'd actually fucking like it. Okay, actually he did have some idea why he liked it, he'd just never come across anyone else who had the perfect combination of utterly fearless disdain for him and a body he'd crawl through broken glass for that flipped the switch hidden inside his brain labeled 'holy shit be mine.' He hadn't even been able to see much of the doc's body at the time, covered up as it was in the white coat and jeans, but he just knew it would be long and lean, and those deft hands and inked fingers, and that gorgeous face with those goddamn eyes.

Fuck. How could he not fall for him. 

Since then he had bordered on obsessed with getting the man's attention. He wanted all of it for himself, every glance and touch and syllable the doctor would give him, even if he wound up being spit out as a pile of bloody bones in the end. 

Of course, the doc was hard to crack, which only got Kid more wrapped up in figuring out how to do it. Kid was not used to pursuing someone who so clearly disliked him from the start. His style was straightforward, he had no hesitation about making it known when he wanted someone, and if the object of his interest returned it then great, but if they didn't he wasn't interested in working for it. Plenty of fish in the sea, and all. 

But the doc. The damn doc. Kid didn't think there was anyone like him. He couldn't begin to guess what made the doc the way he was, he still didn't know his damn name let alone his background. He could find out if he tried, but he didn't because the doc would probably never forgive him. 

Thank god his efforts were being repaid, slow as it was. Otherwise he might have gone crazy by now. 

The doctor had gone from barely tolerating Kid's presence (more like straight up not tolerating really, but since Kid ambushed him at the clinic he didn't have much of a choice), to taking delight in messing with him, and finally the holy grail: standing still long enough to let Kid touch him. 

Even though the doc seemed to be warming up to him, Kid still had no idea what would set the guy off, or how he'd react to any given move. Anything revealed was a prize hard won. 

He's no longer surprised by the bizarre strength of the feelings that rush up whenever he looks at the man; possessiveness, desire... affection even. Those were nothing new, he had gotten used to them weeks ago. By now even Killer knew how far he gone he was over the damn doctor. He might as well be a slab of beef hanging off a meat hook, waiting to be inspected, sold, and grilled up for the doc to eat. Or dissect. Kid's pretty sure the doc is into that kind of thing too. 

Shit, and he's still staring. Fuck. If he stuck around any longer the doc was going to catch him, and he did not want to fuck things up again after last night. Which had been fantastic. Mind blowing, really. Kid was still processing it. Slowly. And in great detail. ...Fuck.

Finally tearing himself away, Kid gets out the door before putting on his shoes and taking the elevator down to street level. 

Killer is waiting for him with the car outside, looking bored while a metermaid berates him for parking in a red zone. When Kid hops into the passenger seat he simply turns from the lecture without a word, and the flustered metermaid jumps out of the way as Killer shifts the car into drive and pulls into the street. 

Killer takes him to his apartment first for a change of clothes, and then after Kid complains enough they go out to breakfast, where Kid eats enough eggs and grilled sausage to kill a man and Killer makes do with a muffin. Killer doesn't ask any questions about what happened after he dropped Kid off at the clinic last night, which Kid appreciates, even if he is itching to brag about how well it turned out. The result was easy enough to imagine, since he ended up at the doc's place and all. He didn't exactly need to fill Killer in on the details, the guy didn't talk much but Kid didn't doubt he absorbed everything left unsaid.

Two days ago was proof enough that Killer was paying attention, when he nabbed Kid's phone while Kid wasn't looking and took the liberty of inviting the prick over to their job. Kid wouldn't put it past Killer to have hit Rawls a little too hard just for that reason. Leave it to him to know how to knock a man cold without causing an unworkable amount of brain damage. Comparatively, he'd done a lot worse in the past for Kid's sake. 

He hadn't said a word all week about Kid staying away from the clinic either, even though it was obvious as fuck he was avoiding the place. And he hadn't commented on the fact that the doc was listed in Kid's contacts as 'Hotcheeks'. But he definitely knew, and wasn't above using it against Kid for his own good. The fucker.

As annoying as it was having other people meddle around with his (and he hesitates to use the word) relationships, he has to admit Killer knows how to work around his stubbornness in all matters—love included—which he is fully aware of, and grudgingly thankful for. It was necessary for the times when otherwise Kid was left banging his head against a wall. 

So instead of talking about the doc, they talk about work. Killer reminds him for the fiftieth time about the meeting tonight, and that opens the door for Kid to complain about what a hassle family meetings were. They always took all night, and little of it was relevant to their specific line of work. Kid was prone to skipping them entirely, but with the way Killer kept pestering him about this one it looked like that wasn't going to happen. Supposedly the Croc was making some important announcements, and all hands were being called to attend. 

Being a capo had it's perks obviously, but being part of the family leadership came with a lot of shit that Kid would prefer to avoid. Give him some heads to break and he was a happy man, meetings and power games were really not his thing. Yet it had been weeks since Crocodile became the boss and promoted Daz Bones to underboss, all without appointing a third capo, so he and Marco were left picking up the slack. And it sucked. Marco was still having a shit over all of his men that landed in jail, which meant Kid was dealing with half of his shit on top of Bones' and was still expected to get his own work done.

Actually, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to bring that up at the meeting. That's what those things were for, right? 

After breakfast is done Kid resists the temptation to go to the clinic and see the doctor's face; he wasn't about to press his luck for a second time. Who knows what kind of mood the doc would be in once he woke up and realized Kid saw him passed out flat on the couch, Kid wasn't exactly eager to find out in case it was not good. He's pretty sure it'd be not good. 

He and Killer go to work instead. It's late enough that the city's degenerate gamblers will be hitting up Shanks' clubs for their lunchtime fix, so they head to one of those and set up camp in a corner of the bar. This is one of those jobs that was originally handled by Bones, but Kid has been taking over since the guy was promoted and now when anybody hits rock bottom they recognize him as the guy who will sell you a shovel. 

When people approach their table, Kid is supposed to check their names against the list of those who owe money to the family, and then based on the numbers that some monkey runs through a spreadsheet, he either cuts them a deal or sends them packing with an unkind reminder that they better bring a payment next time they show their face in front of him. If they're lucky, Killer will hand them a stack of cash and they can go on their little merry way. 

The unlucky ones are treated to some more... personal attention. 

A few men wander over and Kid dutifully goes through the list.

“Johnson? You're already 10k in the hole, and you want more?”

Johnson nods, looking a bit green around the gills, “Er, two thousand should be enough... I've got a bet up on the race tomorrow...” 

Kid raises a brow skeptically, but a glance at Killer's disapproving look reminds him that he's not here to question the shitty decisions these fuckheads make, just to quietly rake in their debts now and shake them down with interest later. He marks Johnson down for another 2k, and the man accepts the cash from Killer with a hasty 'thank-you-sir' and heads out the door with his friends. 

Business is pretty slow, until half an hour later when Killer spots one of the unlucky ones, and catches Kid's attention with a nod over to the far wall. Kid turns around and scans the dim room, finding a balding man in a wrinkled suit and tie lurking around the edges of a blackjack game. He recognizes the face from the photos of top priority clients, those with outstanding debts and a history of disappearing whenever time comes to collect. 

This particular customer probably thought it was safe to take a chance on the tables today without Daz Bones in the room. Even if the family was a little short-handed for the time being, pending a dozen or so federal trials, the Croc isn't one to neglect his investments anymore than Whitebeard was, and he might even be more forceful about making sure they're returned.

Kid flicks through his phone until he finds the guy's face, who turns out to be one Albert Crohnberg, total debt: $50,000. Also included is Mr. Crohnberg's home address (a nice little neighborhood in the suburbs up north, the last place Kid would ever want to be), the location of the Shop-n-Save where he works as a store manager, and his social security number, along with info on all his favorite vices—Albert was a downright pervert in addition to being a hopeless gambler, plenty in there to be ashamed of—plus the names and ages of his closest living relatives, his mistress, wife, and cute little son.

Everything somebody might need to make poor old Albert's life a living hell. 

Kid grins at Killer and passes him the phone so he can take a look too, then gets up from their table and makes his way over to Crohnberg. Their mark is meandering in between card tables, probably trying to decide which game to join, when Kid grabs him by the elbow.

He leans down to speak right into the man's ear, all the better to scare him into coming along without a struggle, “Hey there Al, good to see ya. Why don't you join me in back and we can catch up?” 

Albert stiffens in his grip and turns with a frown, ready to deny everything until he sees Kid's curving smile. Then his eyes widen, Kid can feel him shudder as he makes the connection between Kid's presence and his overdue loan, and he opens his mouth to start babbling excuses. 

His words fall on deaf ears. Kid brusquely leads him away from the card tables, down a hall past the bathrooms, and into a break room. He waves away a pair of dealers chatting on their break, and sits Albert down in one of the free chairs once the room is empty.

Kid takes a seat as well, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “So, Al. We've been worried about you, haven't seen you around for a while. Thought you might be trying to avoid us, yeah?”

Poor old Albert attempts to shrink back into his chair, making himself a small a target as possible, “N-no of course not. I was just, you know, how things are... with the economy...” 

“Right, right. I totally understand. You're in a tough spot, and you wanna come here to blow off some steam. I get it. But you know, we ain't running a charity. You need something to show us that you're here in good faith, understand?”

Albert looks ready to puke up a hairball, and nods weakly. 

“Alright, good. So, whatcha got for me?” 

Albert mutters and sweats for a minute before he clears his throat and says something audible, “I can't... really, right now, it's just... sorry...”

“Hmmm? What'd you say?”

“I... don't have anything to give you... I'm sorry! Please, I just need a month, no three weeks! Then I swear--!”

Kid smirks, and sits back in his chair, “That's really not gonna work, Al. I'm afraid we're gonna have to get something today.”

Albert almost chokes in his haste to reply, “I can't! I don't have anything! I swear I'll get your money!” He reaches out to Kid desperately, and Kid snatches his wrist, twisting his arm at an awkward angle until Albert is wincing and struggling to stay in his seat.

“Calm the fuck down you dumb sack of shit, we're gonna figure it out, alright? I'm sure you've got something worth a decent chunk of change that you've been sitting on, yeah? Let's just go and get it, and then in a month you can show us what else you've come up with.” 

At this point Albert seems like he's ready to break down and start sobbing, and Kid isn't sure everything he said got through to the guy, but he's not going to bother repeating himself. Instead he stands, and hauls Albert back up by his arm on his way out the door. Killer joins them as Kid waves goodbye to the bartender, and they all head out to the car, with Albert held firmly in between them both. 

Kid throws the man into the back seat before getting in on the passenger side, and Killer slides into the driver's seat. 

“You got the address?” Kid says, and Killer grunts affirmatively, turning out of the lot and heading north. Crohnberg whines and begs some more behind them until Kid yells at him to shut the fuck up, then he settles into wet sniffling. 

Soon enough they're pulling up to Crohnberg's little nest of suburban bliss, parking behind a nice looking white Mercedes, and Kid has to reach in the car to drag him out onto the driveway. Albert looks like a mess, his suit has wrinkled even more and there's snot on his face. Kid sneers at him before marching him up to the front door, Killer following close behind. He had no sympathy for shitheads that got their families involved in their bullshit. 

“Go ahead,” Kid says, shoving Albert up to the door when he tries to drag his feet. Albert drops his keys twice trying to fumble them into the lock, Kid rolls his eyes and reaches around him to bang on the door with one fist. 

A moment later, Mrs. Crohnberg answers the door. She's caught speechless from the sight of her sniveling husband, flanked by a huge grinning redhead and a stone-faced blond, and Kid doesn't give her a chance to regain her composure, pushing Albert inside first with a cheerful, “Good afternoon, ma'am. Sorry to bother you at home.” 

The wife finds her voice quickly enough, and she's shrill and loud, “What- What are you doing! What's going on?! Albert!” She follows them through the house ineffectually until Kid pushes Albert down into the sofa in the living room. Then she shrieks, “Get out! I'm calling the police!”

Kid smirks at her, “Nah, we won't be much trouble, just take a seat and I'll explain everything. Right, Al?” 

“Sit down Margaret, it's alright,” Albert manages to croak. 

Margaret hesitates at that, and Kid stares her down until she obeys and goes over to sit stiffly next to her husband. Then he grins wide, pulling out his pack of cigarettes to casually light up, and Killer slips away wordlessly to search the house for valuables. 

“So, Margaret,” Kid starts after a few drags off his smoke, “Al has this problem you probably don't know about, and we're here to help him out. What happens is, Al likes to play cards, and when he loses he likes to borrow money, and when he borrows money he doesn't like to pay it back. Except this doesn't really work for us, so we're gonna take some of your shit for collateral, and when your husband gets the cash together maybe you can have it back. Or maybe we'll just sell it and call it interest, I dunno. Depends on him.” 

Margaret is looking pretty pale as she watches Kid's every move with wide eyes. Her husband doesn't seem ready to chime in either. 

Kid sucks on his cigarette and blows a smooth stream of smoke towards the ceiling, “That pretty much sums it up. Though you might wanna consider ditching this guy, he's not gonna do you any good. He knew that trying to avoid this shit would bring it right back to you, and he did it anyway. You could probably do better.” 

At that moment Killer returns from upstairs, a nice sized jewelry box under one arm and a little kid in the other. He sets the kid down, just as Margaret sobs, “No!” and the brat runs over to his mother, who gathers him up in her arms. 

Kid snickers, “We don't want your damn kid, lady. We'll just take the keys to that Mercedes out front. Oh yeah, are those rocks real?” He holds up his left hand and waggles the ring finger, and Margaret looks down at her wedding rings, then nods slowly. Kid steps closer and she twists them off and hands them over without a fuss. Smart lady.

“Keys?”

“...In the bowl by the door.”

“Alright, thanks a lot. Think about that divorce, if you need a lawyer look up Freddy Gomez, he'll clean this guy out. See you next month, Al.” 

He and Killer leave Albert and his wife and kid on the sofa, backtracking through the house to the front door and scooping up the car keys out of a ceramic dish as they go. 

By then it's almost 6 'o'clock, not enough time to get any more work done before they'd have to head to the damn meeting. 

Kid twirls the keys around one finger, “See you back at the thing?” and Killer nods as he gets into his car. Kid hops into his new Mercedes and looks it over from the inside. It's got a tan leather interior with real wood detailing, and enough gas to get him to the other side of the city without making any stops. Oh, and heated seats. Not too bad. It would probably spend the next month sitting in a garage, waiting to get sold if poor Albert couldn't come up with a decent amount of cash in the meantime. 

Once the wives got involved, these things usually went one of two ways. Either Margaret would help Albert do everything possible to repay his loan, maybe by pressing Granny Crohnberg to cough up some savings and taking out a second mortgage on their nice little 4 bed 3 bath, on the condition that Albert would start attending gamblers anonymous meetings. 

Or Margaret would kick dear old Albert to the curb and leave him to wallow in his own filth. 

Kid was hoping for the latter. It was a shame that Margaret ended up losing all her jewelry and her car in the first round. He almost regretted not spelling out every nasty detail of that bastard's affair and fucked up kinks, just to drive the last few nails into Albert's coffin, but they had to save some dirt this time in case Albert decided to act like a shit next month too. Getting the money back was more important than sending the guy to an early grave, for now anyway. 

He really couldn't begin to explain how much he despised trash like Albert, or how much he enjoyed fucking with him. He didn't feel guilty for showing up out of the blue and turning his family's world upside down within an hour, Albert was the one who brought this on them. Nobody forced him to start borrowing money from the mob, and they didn't make any secret about what would happen to the shitheads who didn't return the cash on schedule. Crocodile wasn't going to forgive a loan just because the guy had a wife and kid who had nothing to do with any of this, yet were still paying a price as a result. That wasn't how it worked. 

Kid's own dear old dad got deep into debt years ago and then disappeared. It was ancient history, and Kid didn't blame the loan brokers then or now, even if he still didn't know whether his dad skipped out or just ended up getting dumped off the number five pier with his head cut off. It amounted to the same thing, from Kid's point of view. He had nothing but disdain for the man, and for rest of the scum that went down the same path, leaving behind families to scrape up the pieces in their wake. It was pathetic.

Goddamn, and he still got all worked up and vindictive about this kind of thing. It was simpler when Daz Bones was still a capo and he didn't have to actually fork the cash over to the idiots before tracking them down to collect. Working both ends just made the whole thing seem that much more fucked up.

He was definitely going to complain about this shit at the meeting. 

Eventually Kid arrives at the main headquarters, parking next to Killer's car in the lot. Wire and Heat are already there as well, and they greet him as he walks in, along with a few others hanging near the entrance. People are milling around in the front room and the meeting room further inside, and from the look of it pretty much everyone has shown up by now.

Kid goes back to the main room, where he finds Marco sitting at the table near the front. He takes the chair next to him, trading a nod with his fellow capo. 

He spends a few more minutes watching the room fill up. There aren't many seats so most are left standing, though Killer snags a chair close by. Kid takes out his pack of cigs and offers it to Marco, who shakes his head. He shakes out one for himself and lights it. After taking a long drag he gives Marco a sidelong look.

“Any idea what this is about?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

Marco sighs, he's looking even sleepier than usual, “No clue. You?”

“Nope.” 

It's a closed meeting, exclusively for made family members, and only the second time that Crocodile required the entire family to show up. The first time had been the day after Whitebeard was killed, when Crocodile took over as the Boss, if that gave a clue to the weight this sort of meeting held. But strangely, Marco doesn't know anything more than he does. Whitebeard had been more open with his information, especially with Marco as his most trusted capo, so the man was probably feeling uncomfortable being left in the dark. 

He's halfway through his second smoke when Daz Bones shows up. The change in the atmosphere is instant, all the conversation dies down and everyone falls in along the walls as the underboss makes his way silently to the front. Bones glances at Kid and Marco, but he doesn't take a seat with them, choosing to stand ominously at the end of the table instead. 

As soon as he's in position, Crocodile appears. Kid straightens in his chair when the boss walks in. Crocodile's presence never fails to set a serious mood, every eye is on him as he crosses the room in smooth strides to take his place at the center of the table. Once seated, he plucks a cigar from his jacket pocket and sticks it between his teeth. Daz Bones immediately leans down and offers him a light, which Crocodile lazily accepts. 

The crowd seems to be holding its breath as Crocodile gets settled. He takes his time, to the point where Kid is starting to get ticked off. He's been waiting for this shitty meeting all day, that damn Croc could hurry up and get on with it already so he could go home. Or maybe stop by the clinic and see what sort of mood the doc was in tonight. 

Finally, Crocodile takes one last drag off his cigar and spills a thick cloud of smoke into the room before speaking.

“I've decided to promote a third capo. Robin, come up.”

A woman breaks away from the group of people standing by the wall and moves to the front, stopping in front of Crocodile. He tilts his head towards the empty seat next to him, the one Kid would have assumed was for Daz Bones, but Daz remains still and Robin walks around the table to sit down. She looks familiar, pretty, in a severe way. Kid must have seen her around before, but he couldn't say what she did for the family. 

Still, she sat at Crocodile's right hand like she was born to be there, and that took some spine.

Once she's seated, cool as ice under the eyes of everyone she just left on the other side of the table, Crocodile continues, “Robin will be taking over Daz Bones' previous position. If you have a problem with a client, go to her. I expect this will make things run more smoothly.” He says this last part with a short look over to Marco and Kid, in a way that makes Kid bite back a scowl. Kid's pretty sure Crocodile couldn't have read his mind to know that he had wanted to complain about having to fill Daz Bones' shoes for the past few weeks, but now he got the feeling the old reptile was looking down on him. Prick.

He settles for glaring at Killer instead, who just gives him a tiny shrug. Kid smashes the butt of his cigarette into the glass ashtray waiting on the table. 

Crocodile goes on, “In regards to those who remain incarcerated, they are being held without bail. The federal prosecutors are not making things easy for us, they believe they can disrupt our operations by detaining and intimidating a few of our men, which will not happen. There's no need for any of you to be involved, the lawyers will handle everything.”

Marco shifts uneasily next to him, obviously not happy with Crocodile's dismissive manner of speaking about his men. Crocodile takes no notice.

“There is one final item of business tonight. I've made arrangements for our family to take part in a very lucrative deal with the Kaido group.” 

As soon as Crocodile mentions Kaido, the room fills with mutters of mixed uncertainty and displeasure. Marco goes absolutely still, and Kid doesn't know what to think. Everyone knew that Kaido was involved with some real nasty shit, even for their line of business, and for the most part it was better not to get involved. Kid doesn't really give a crap though, the 'very lucrative' part definitely caught his attention. 

Crocodile gives the entire room a long cold stare until the chatter fades to silence before he continues. 

“In essence, we will be coordinating a financial scheme several magnitudes greater than our typical operations. Daz Bones will be managing the details, I expect everyone to cooperate with whatever he requires.” 

More muttering starts, but it quiets down again quickly and no one seems willing to stand up and say anything in the face of Crocodile frowning severely around his cigar.

The Croc had been vague on purpose, giving nothing concrete at this point for someone to challenge. He was always slick like that. The whole plan would likely stay a mystery to everyone except himself and his underboss, anyone else involved would be told what they needed to know to do their part. Tonight's announcement was only greasing the gears, publicly giving the Boss' blessing to whatever Daz Bones did afterwards. That way people wouldn't ask so many questions when they were given orders, and if the deal with Kaido's group was a little sketchy (with Kaido's track record, it would be more than a little sketchy) no one would know enough to start shit over it.

Kid knows it's slippery dealing. He just doesn't care. 

He didn't need to know the details of Crocodile's plans; if it works they'd make more money, and if it doesn't then Kid could take care of his own when things went to shit. Some people might think—to themselves of course, they wouldn't have the balls to say it out loud, let alone to his face—that he didn't understand what Crocodile was doing, or that he blindly followed the Boss, but he wasn't an idiot either. 

As long as the work was good and the money came in, Kid did the job he was given without bothering to ask questions. If anybody underestimated him because he didn't make an effort to pry into business that didn't directly concern him and he wasn't interested in getting involved with any family drama, that was their problem. 

Anyone who disagreed could get fucked. 

Crocodile allows the silence to thicken until it's straight up uncomfortable. Almost everyone in the room is avoiding his gaze, except for the most hardened members, and Kid counts himself lucky to be on the other of the table where he didn't have to submit to a stare down with the old reptile. He's already holding back from fidgeting with impatience; it was one thing not to give a shit about these meetings, and a whole other thing to actually act like it right in front of the Boss, his crew, and the entire rest of the family. Still, if the Croc could get on with things any fucking day now, that'd be just peachy.

Finally, when Crocodile is fully satisfied that no one is about to speak up against him tonight, he pushes away from the table and stands, examining the collected family members one last time. 

“If there's nothing else, then we're finished,” he says, and without waiting for any replies he's already on his way across the room and out the door. 

Daz Bones follows after one last glare around the room before anyone else really has a chance to react to the Boss' terse exit. 

And with that, Kid assumes the meeting is completely done. The whole thing only took about half an hour, leaving plenty of time to do whatever he wanted with the rest of the night, starting with a quick trip over to the clinic to see how the doc was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: As Kid mentioned, Killer has done some very bad things in the past for Kid's sake. For example, way back when Kid was a cute teenager just starting out as a soldier in Whitebeard's family, he got in deep with an older woman. This particular woman did not take Kid's feelings seriously, and started seeing other men without bothering to break things off with Kid. When Kid found out, he punched the guy he caught her with in the head, then spent two days getting trashed and regretting the last few months of his life. 
> 
> Killer set her car on fire. While she was driving it. 
> 
>  
> 
> SUPER SPECIAL SURPRISE -=BONUS FUN FACT=- 
> 
> “Kid is supposed to check their names against the list of those who owe money to the family, and then based on the numbers that some monkey runs through a spreadsheet, he either cuts them a deal or sends them packing...”
> 
> Kid only briefly mentions someone who plays a very key role in the family: the spreadsheet monkey. 
> 
> Like most members of the family, Kid does not understand the scope or the complexity of what the spreadsheet monkey does. While this lack of understanding guarantees that potential business rivals will have a nearly impossible time replicating Crocodile's secret for success, it also leads to the spreadsheet monkey being continually devalued and underestimated by the rest of the family. Do not be fooled, the spreadsheet monkey's tireless work behind the scenes is integral to the family's prosperity.
> 
> Actually, the spreadsheet monkey has a pair of degrees from MIT in business and economics, plus an MBA from Harvard Business School. Her name is Rosa. She is 29 years old, and started working for Whitebeard after graduate school about five years ago. 
> 
> Rosa is very antisocial. While she excelled in academics, during her masters program she decided that instead of starting a legitimate career, she wanted to disappear from normal society and focus on research. The best way to stay off the grid is to find a steady source of untraceable cash and a way to forge her identity or not use it at all. Obviously she settled on getting involved with organized crime. 
> 
> Now Rosa keeps track of all the loans for the family, and calculates how much risk they can take lending money to new and repeat clients. To do this, she runs statistical analysis on the historical trends and customer profiles, data which she has painstakingly compiled during her time working for the family. This is difficult and hazardous work, mostly because mobsters do not keep very good records. In fact, if Crocodile found out that she was collecting what amounted to detailed evidence of the family's criminal acts, he would probably have her killed. 
> 
> However, after years of dedicated analysis and forecasting, she has developed a system that produces a 30% profit from the best estimates of when to loan a customer more money, when to give him another month to catch up on payments, or when to shake him down for everything he's worth. This level of success was previously unthinkable.
> 
> She's very proud of her system, so proud that she's written a full doctoral thesis on the fascinating workings of the underground debt market. Unfortunately, she has no idea how to publish it without getting either arrested or killed, so she has made arrangements for all of her notes, data, analysis, and completed thesis to be sent to every major academic institution in the event of her death.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello again, treasured readers! It's been a long wait, hasn't it? Don't worry, we're getting into the home stretch here. Thank you kindly for bearing with me all this time.
> 
> Also, I've individually replied to everyone's comments on my special new blog, so check it out over at: vegaisthereply dot tumblr dot com. Click the 'tags' link if you'd like to sort reviews by a specific fic, or search by your username, and more.

Somewhere in a smoky office, two men are sitting on either side of a desk...

“So I take it the meeting went well?”

“Well enough, no one should have any complaints now.”

“That's good...aren't you happy you decided to accept my offer?”

“As long as it continues to be mutually beneficial.”

“Speaking of beneficial.. that doctor of yours is very interesting.”

“...And?”

“And I was just thinking I wouldn't mind.. borrowing him for a little while. Thoughts?”

“Borrowing? Are you planning to give him back?”

“I'm not planning on killing this one, if that's what you're asking.”

“Do what you want, just don't bother me about it.”

“Of course, I'll just need his current address...?”

“I'll have it sent to you. Now if you didn't come here for anything, leave.”

“Fufufu, always so cold, my dear Crocodile, but if you insist. I'll be back again another time.”

\---

Law is just getting ready to leave when he hears a knock on the door, and sighs, slipping into his jacket before going to answer it.

“Shachi I told you you didn't need to come pick me up—oh.” It's not Shachi, but a tall dark-haired stranger in sunglasses and a white coat. “My apologies, can I help you?” 

“Trafalgar Law?” 

“Yes?” 

“You'll need to come with me.” 

“...Regarding?”

“Doflamingo has invited you to his estate, and I am here to escort you. You can call me Mr. Vergo.”

Law's brain stutters to a halt at the mention of Doflamingo's name. 

Oh. Fuck. 

He tries to slam the door but Vergo catches it and forces his way in. Next Law turns to run towards his bedroom, where he's got that gun Kid gave him tucked away in the closet, but Vergo catches him before he gets two steps away and slams him into the wall, and Law hisses in pain from having his head bounced off the wall and curses a blue streak.

“Don't try to run,” Vergo says, “Doflamingo wants you in one piece.”

That makes Law's stomach do a sickening flip, and he picks up his struggle with more than a bit of desperate energy as Vergo attempts to pin his arms behind his back, but he gets off a lucky kick to Vergo's ribs. Then Vergo just sneers at him and hauls back and punches him in the head so hard he blacks out. 

\---

Shachi turns up at Law's apartment and knocks on the door. Waits. Calls Law's phone for the fifth time, still no answer. Knocks again. He sighs and gets out the spare key Law gave him and lets himself into the apartment, because he's not going to stand around in the hall until Law decided he wanted to leave. He suspects he'll find Law engrossed in some weird book, ignoring his phone and the door because he didn't want to get dressed and leave the house before noon like a normal person. That was usually the case when he didn't show up to their agreed upon lunch spot on time. But now it's after one and he's starving and in no mood for Law's bullshit.

Fully prepared to complain at Law until he put down the book and gets ready for lunch, it takes Shachi a moment to register the signs of a struggle in the hall. 

His adrenaline spikes, “Oh fuck.”

He grabs his phone.

“Killer! Law- the doc's fucking gone! Somebody fucking took him! Do something!”

“What? Slow down.”

“He didn't show up to lunch and he didn't answer his phone and I went to his apartment there's broken shit all over the place and HE'S FUCKING GONE!!”

“Okay, relax. When was the last time you talked to him? Did anything seem strange?” 

“I don't know! Yesterday?! Nothing was wrong he was fine!”

He hears a huff over the phone before Killer replies, “Alright, stop yelling. Stay there, we'll pick you up.”

\---

When his consciousness starts to float back he's being carried over somebody's shoulder with his wrists bound, his head is pounding like mad, and everything is blurry. He has a vague realization that he's probably concussed and he tries to struggle weakly, but it does nothing and he fades again fast. 

\---

Killer ends the call, and takes a deep breath before he goes to find Kid and break the news that Hotcheeks is missing. Predictably, Kid does not take it well. There is a lot of shouting that, on top of Shachi's yelling through the phone a minute ago, leaves Killer's ears ringing before Kid eventually calms down enough to get his shit together and they head out.

Fifteen minutes later they show up at the doc's place, where Shachi flings open the door when they knock. “Oh thank god I didn't know what to do, what do we do!” 

Killer is unperturbed by Shachi's frantic demand, but by now Kid seems straight up rabid. He's wild-eyed, his hair is standing on end, and the muscle in his jaw twitching. He actually snarls when he sees the upended side table in the hall and the broken lamp. Shachi just gets the hell out of his way as Kid stalks into the apartment, glaring like he's expecting the culprit to jump out from behind the couch so he can wring their neck until their head pops off. 

Killer lets Kid stomp around while he pulls Shachi aside to calm the kid down because clearly he was about to burn a fuse. “We're going to figure out what happened to the doc. Has anything out of the ordinary happened in the past few days?”

After a few questions it's clear none of them know anything, but Killer finds it unusual that this is the second doctor that's gone missing in the last six months. When he brings that up, Shachi and Kid both vehemently agree that what's more important is _their_ doctor is missing. Well, Kid really just growls, and his lip is starting to curl in that way it does before extensive property damage ensues. 

Killer sighs and rubs his temple. Whenever a crisis happens he always ends up having to handle it because everybody around him always lost their goddamn heads. Kid was great at ruthlessly executing a plan, but he had a bit of trouble responding to situations that required flexible thinking. Especially when someone like his sort-of boyfriend was involved. 

He figures it might be useful to get an unbiased perspective at this point, and takes out his phone to call Marco, who picks up after a few rings.

“Hello?”

“Marco, Killer. We've got a problem.”

He explains the situation, and Marco listens in silence, until Killer wraps it up with, “I was thinking this seems similar to the last time we lost a doctor.”

“I'm inclined to agree with you.”

“Alright, I can call Croc and then we-”

“No,” Macro replies sharply. Hm.

“...Well we have to do something now or my capo is going to start dismantling the city looking for the guy.”

There's a long pause on the other end of the line.

“And why would he do that?”

Killer sighs. He didn't really want to get into this, but there was a legitimate danger that if Marco didn't understand the full scope of this emergency then he wouldn't be inclined to take it as seriously as was necessary before Kid just started strangling whoever he could catch. 

“Long story short, he's very invested in getting the doc back and he will resort to any means necessary, so it's in everyone's best interest to figure out how to do that as soon as possible.”

“Any means necessary, is that so. ...And you?”

 _Me? What does this have to do with me?_ “I don't think I understand what you're getting at.”

Macro clears his throat quietly, “Alright I'll get to the point. I need to know if both of you would do anything to get the doctor back, no matter who is responsible.”

The implication immediately brings him to full attention. Marco knows a lot more than he's saying, and he didn't want Killer to contact the Boss. 

There are two glaring possibilities: either Marco wanted to save the doc and Crocodile would sabotage that effort somehow... or Marco didn't want the Boss to find out because Marco was somehow involved in the doctor's disappearance. 

Killer hastily runs through everything that could possibly be relevant to deciding whether he should trust Marco, because if he gets it wrong and something even worse happens to the doc, Kid would either mope for the rest of eternity, or kill him and then mope. Both highly undesirable outcomes.

Points in Marco's favor: before Kid got interested, Marco was arguably the person in the family most looking out for Law's best interests. He was fiercely loyal to Whitebeard in the past, and his crew, and the doctor had saved the life of Jean Bart, so that argued Marco would want to help the doc.

However, after Whitebeard's death and the subsequent arrests of nearly half of Marco's crew, another event that Killer had his suspicions about, Marco's head had gotten out of the game, and he didn't seem pleased with Crocodile ascending to the head of the family.

Killer doesn't know what Marco's relationship with the previous family doctor had been like, the one who first disappeared. Before the doc, their doc, Kid had avoided doctors like the plague, so he had never really gotten the chance to know the guy, and can't remember ever seeing Marco interact with him, or talk about him. If he remembered correctly, the first disappearance had left even less clues: no sign of a struggle, and no word from any corner of the city about where he had gone. They had assumed he had simply run, but with this fresh mess it could hardly be a coincidence. 

But... if Killer has to make a bet on the doc's safety and Kid's happiness, chances were that Marco was more trustworthy than the Croc. And the last family meeting had left a bad taste in his mouth. 

He decides to side with Marco.

“Anything. What do you need?”

“Good. I've been looking into some things and signs point to Kaido's group being responsible for the disappearance of our last doctor. 

“Kaido?” 

He realizes his mistake in saying the name out loud when Kid looms in front of him, seething, “It was fucking Kaido?” 

Killer huffs, he thought Kid was still too busy stomping around to pay attention to his conversation, and then Shachi materializes next to Kid and whispers, “Who's Kaido?!” very loudly. Killer mouths 'wait' at them, then turns away pointedly to get back to Marco. He can still feel their eyes boring holes in the back of his head.

“Yes,” Marco continues, “I believe that he, or someone working for him, has been making covert attempts to eliminate our people. I'm not exactly clear on their motivations, but I think they've been working with someone inside the family... possibly Crocodile himself.” 

Well. That was disturbing. If it went as high up as Crocodile, that was on the level of a massive conspiracy. Everything had just gotten vastly more complicated; they might as well have wandered onto a minefield. And unfortunately, Kid was the least cautious person he knew. This was going to be a real pain in the ass.

“Alright. So where does that leave us?”

“In a very difficult position, to be honest. Luckily I have a man inside Crocodile's circle, I will get in touch with them and see if they have any news on what's been going on. In the meantime, you cannot under any circumstance tell anyone else in the family that the doctor is missing. I'm not certain who the double agent is, but assume Crocodile and everyone working under Daz Bones is suspect. For now, search the doctor's apartment for any evidence of who was there, and then it could be a good idea to do a sweep of the clinic as well. I'll update you with whatever I find.”

Marco's grasp of the situation is somewhat comforting, but Killer is still left with the sense that someone had just pulled the rug out from under him. At least now they had a plan of action.

“Got it. I'll let you know if we find something on this end.”

Marco says his goodbyes, and Killer ends the call. When he turns around again, Shachi is watching him anxiously, and Kid has developed a pulsing vein on his forehead. 

Killer holds up his hands in a placating gesture, “Okay, Marco just told me a lot of bad shit and you two need to swear that you're not going to do something stupid as soon as I tell you what's going on.”

Shachi nods, “I swear!”

Kid leans in menacingly, “What the fuck did he say?”

Killer frowns back at him, “Promise me you're not going to lose it, first.” 

Kid gnashes his teeth a bit, while Killer remains completely unmoved, but he eventually spits out a grudging, “Fine!”

“He thinks the Kaido group is behind it, and that Crocodile is in on it.”

“THAT FUCKING REPTILE?! I am going to fucking SKIN HIM ALIVE!” Kid is already halfway out the door, spitting curses and promises of a long and painful death, before Killer and Shachi manage to muscle him back inside, growling, just barely. 

“Christ, you didn't even let me finish. Marco is using his contacts to figure out who has the doc, he'll let us know as soon as he has something. We're going to search this place for whatever we can find, and then go down to the clinic and do the same, alright?”

Kid snaps his teeth together with a sharp click, but he spins around on his heel and stalks back into the apartment, furiously scanning over everything in the sitting room.

The damage appears limited to the front hall, and they don't find anything helpful on the second search, though Shachi gathers the doctor's phone, keys, and wallet. With that done, they head back down to street level and pile into Killer's car to drive over to the clinic and continue the search there. 

\---

The next time Law wakes up he's laying down. When he sits up too fast sharp pain lances through his head and he chokes out “Fuck!” and presses both hands to his head. Oh, he's not tied up now. When the pain dulls down to an aching throb he opens his eyes and looks around. He's on a big bed, in a huge luxuriously furnished bedroom, and he hastily looks down at himself to make sure he's still wearing clothes (he is, thank god). Then he notices Vergo sitting in the room with him on one of the plush armchairs by a marble fireplace. He goes completely still. 

Vergo is looking at him. “There's some aspirin on the table. Take it. He'll want you in good condition.”

Law glares back and mutters, “Aspirin isn't going to do shit for a concussion,” though now in addition to a splitting headache he feels a sinking helplessness, and like he's going to vomit. He smacks the pill bottle off the side table and it clatters to the ground, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Vergo, and tries to gather his thoughts so he can figure out how he can get the fuck out of here before Doflamingo shows up and everything gets a thousand times worse.

\---

The clinic is just as it usually is, with no sign of anyone having been there since the night before, when Shachi had last seen the doc. After a few minutes of checking each room, the three of them reconvene in the office. 

Killer is watching Kid intently as his capo paces around the room like a caged tiger that has sampled human flesh and knows it can get more if it can just figure out how to undo the lock. Kid's frustration and rage are pouring off him, with a creeping black undercurrent of anxiety that Killer has only seen in him once or twice before. It's feeding his own agitation that's been smoldering slowly, a heavy coal in the center of his chest. He's reluctant to contact Marco again and admit that, so far, they've found nothing that can bring them any closer to the doctor, but there is nothing left for him to do otherwise. Without a lead, they could only wait. 

Kid's head snaps around and he glares out of the office into the hall. “Backdoor,” he mutters, as he slides a hand under his leather jacket and draws his gun, moving silently through the doorway. Killer's pulse quickens and he retrieves his own gun before motioning Shachi to stay put, hurrying to follow a step behind Kid. 

When he steps into the hall, he finds Kid holding a dark haired woman at gunpoint. Robin, Crocodile's newest capo. 

So much for keeping this quiet.

Robin has her hands raised in mute surrender, though she stares down Kid with an utter lack of fear. Killer can't tell if she's not picking up on the murder spelled out with every inch of Kid's posture, or if she really is that brave. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kid snaps, before Killer can attempt to gain control of the situation.

“Marco told me you would be here,” she replies calmly, otherwise not moving a muscle. 

“Oh yeah? Why's that?”

“He said it would be best to give you this information in person. I know who has the doctor.”

Kid goes absolutely still, most likely surprised speechless, and Killer grabs the opportunity to take over the conversation, “How do we know you're telling the truth?”

Robin's gaze flicks over to him, “Check my phone for his message, or give him a call. ”

He studies her face for any hint of a lie, but her expression remains placid. “Alright.”

He walks up to her, staying out of the line of Kid's gun still aimed steady at her head. “Where's your phone?”

“Left pocket,” she answers smoothly. He reaches slowly to take it, then accesses the voicemail and finds the last message. As she said, it's from Marco, instructing her on where to find them and to share the information she found. 

Now convinced, he looks back at Kid and gives a small nod. Kid lowers the gun, though he doesn't put it away, and Robin lowers her hands. 

“Well, I'm pleased you both understand the seriousness of the situation,” she says, as cool as if she hadn't been one twitch from getting her brains blown out.

Killer holds back a snort of laughter. For Kid, nothing was more serious. The doc going missing was probably up there with the sun exploding in terms of severity. 

“Just tell us where he is,” Kid growls. 

“Crocodile gave his location away to Kaido's underboss, Donquixote Doflamingo. Chances are that this was not done for the sake of gaining information or anything of that nature, so it's unlikely that the doctor is being held at any of the Kaido group's locations. The most likely place is Doflamingo's estate, outside of the city.”

To no one's surprise, Kid explodes. His eyes flare with unadulterated hatred, and he kicks the wall so hard a heel shaped dent is left behind. 

“Hey, the doc is going to be pissed when he sees that,” Killer remarks.

Kid pays him no mind, delivering another kick to the wall that punches a hole through the plaster.

“FUCK,” Kid snarls, jerking his boot out of the wall and whirling around to storm down the hall, gun still in hand. 

Killer lets him go, he wouldn't get very far without the car keys. Robin only looks mildly curious at Kid's outburst, and Killer asks her to let Marco know that they were going to pay Doflamingo a visit, then he thanks her for the information and collects Shachi from the office before heading outside. Hopefully Kid hasn't started tearing apart his car with impotent fury yet.

\---

Law doesn't know exactly how long it's been since he was dragged out of his apartment, but it's been hours since he woke up. Despite all the free time, he's not any closer to having a plan for getting out of there.

Vergo hasn't left him alone for a second, and right now he's wishing that he hadn't been so hasty in making a point of rejecting the painkillers he was offered at first. It feels like his brain is rubbing against the inside of his skull, and the entire left side of his face feels like one huge bruise. He probably looks like he was hit with a bus.

Not only that, a while ago when he had finally moved from the bed with the pretense of using the bathroom, Vergo followed him in there to keep an eye on him, which led to a mostly one-sided argument, and that led to another very one-sided altercation, ending with Law curled up on the marble tiles trying to remember how to breathe without throwing up after getting a fist straight to his stomach.

He doesn't think he's seriously injured, but at the moment even thinking hurts, and it's making it difficult to keep a handle on the skittering onset of panic that keeps creeping up on him. 

He's run through every possible escape scenario in his head at least a dozen times. Vergo did not seem like the kind of man he could trick or overpower without some additional help, if the previous conflicts were anything to go by. The man clearly had no compunctions about violently incapacitating him at the smallest provocation, making it unlikely that he would be able to convince Vergo to do anything besides beat him half to death. 

He has nothing on his person that could be used as a weapon, barefoot and wearing merely jeans and a long-sleeved shirt as he is, and he doubts Vergo would let him start poking around the room to look for something. Even if he were armed, he's a little skeptical that he would be able to incapacitate Vergo long enough to get out of the room. And if by some miracle he did, he still has no idea where he is, or what lay outside the door. 

From what he can see with his limited view of the bedroom windows, there were trees and other greenery outside, which put him in some kind of house, not anywhere downtown. He was unconscious during the whole trip between his apartment and wherever this was, so he can only make a general estimate of how far it could have been. His best guess put him anywhere between half an hour to two hours outside the city, judging from the fact that the sunlight had only just started to ease into evening. 

Which is so vague it's next to useless.

As the minutes keep ticking by without any epiphanies or miracles occurring, Law starts to steel himself for what's looking like an inevitable conclusion to this whole sordid day. It didn't take a genius to realize what was going to happen to him if he couldn't manage to escape. 

He's still furious with himself for not managing to slip away unnoticed as soon as he saw Doflamingo at that stupid party. He should have heeded his instincts and been on the first flight to Bali after leaving the hotel, instead of using Eustass to smother his anxiety. 

In hindsight, he had been so fucking naive. But how could he have known that Doflamingo would take it this far? 

He doesn't want to think about where it was going to end, either.

He hears a buzz, and raises his head to watch Vergo answer a cellphone.

Vergo listens to the call silently, his expression giving no hint as to what he was hearing, before he tucks the phone away into his pocket without a word. Then he stands, and crosses the room towards Law.

Shit, _shit_ this was it. Law scrambles away over the bed. He manages to evade Vergo for all of a minute before getting caught and shaken like a misbehaving child. He'd like to struggle, but he's paralyzed under the rough hand wrapped around the back of his neck, his body having already twice learned the difference between his strength and Vergo's, and Vergo drags him easily out of the room.

Vergo forces him to walk through a long lavish hall lined with closed doors, then they reach a small staircase and descend. Law's heart is pounding ridiculously fast, making his head spin as he's led down more corridors and through ornately decorated rooms with high ceilings. They don't meet anyone the entire way, until they exit into another hall. 

And Kid is at the other end.

Law's breath freezes in his chest, and Vergo steps neatly behind him, twisting one of his arms behind his back.

“Drop your gun, or I'll kill him right here,” Vergo says impassively. That's when Law realizes the muzzle of a pistol is aimed an inch away from his ear.

He can't take his eyes off Eustass, though. Kid looks like a man possessed, his eyes wide and a streak of blood on his cheek, more on his shirt, a gun in his hand that he lowered the instant Vergo put Law in front of him. As Law watches, petrified, Kid spreads his hands slowly before going to one knee and putting down his gun.

“Doc, are you ok?” Kid asks once his gun is on the floor, so quiet that Law can barely hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. He's staring at Law's face with unwavering intensity, and not the least bit of fear. Law wants to shout at him for coming right to Doflamingo's door, of all places, like an _idiot_ , but it feels like someone hammered a nail through his throat.

“Don't talk,” Vergo orders. He walks Law down the hall towards Kid, kicking away Kid's gun when they reach him, and fishes out something from his pocket, shoving it into Law's hand before releasing his arm. “Put that on his wrists.”

Law looks at what Vergo has given him. A zip-tie. When he doesn't move, Vergo prods him in the back with the gun, “Hurry up.”

“Do what he says, Doc...” Eustass tells him, and Vergo barks, “I said don't talk.”

Law crouches down behind Kid and loops the plastic tie around Kid's wrists, keeping it loose until Vergo demands he tighten it until it's digging into the skin. He grazes his knuckles over Kid's hand, not knowing what else to do with Vergo watching him intently. _You unbelievably stupid fucking bastard..._

When he's finished, Vergo grabs his shoulder and makes him sit against the wall, then shoves Kid over next to him so they sit shoulder to shoulder, keeping the gun trained between them. Vergo takes out his phone and presses a key. “Sir. Crocodile's capo is here. Should I eliminate him?”

“Doc.”

Law glances sideways at Eustass, and finds him staring straight at Vergo.

“I've got a knife in my coat,” Kid breathes, his lips hardly moving. “Take it and hide it.”

Law's heart bangs hard against his ribs. How the hell is he supposed to do any of that. This is so _fucked_.

Vergo ends his call and raises the gun, and Law panics. He throws himself on top of Kid, wrapping his arms around Kid's chest and hanging on for dear life.

When Vergo inevitably grabs his shirt to haul him off, he yells, “Don't! I won't run, don't hurt him!” and presses his face into Kid's neck while he fumbles around inside Kid's coat until his hand closes around cold salvation. 

Vergo cracks him over the back of the head with the gun, and uses his disorientation to tear him away from Kid and throw him against the other wall. Law staggers to get back on his feet, somehow managing to numbly press the button that makes the blade snap out from its handle, and rushes at Vergo's back.

Vergo has his gun raised again, aiming straight between Kid's eyes, who glares fiercely up the barrel, a challenge to death itself.

Law's movements feel too sluggish as he raises the knife and brings it down. He wasn't going to make it- _Kid_ —

The shining blade sinks into the thick muscle of Vergo's neck like he's carving through butter. Law watches, a world away, as the blood gushes out, covering the knife and his hand, pouring over the fine white fabric of Vergo's jacket, soaking everything warm and red. He yanks the knife out and stabs him again for good measure. Vergo slumps forward and hits the floor face first.

Law stands over him—it—the body—with the switchblade in his hand as more blood spills over plush cream-colored carpet. He feels cold, as rigid and brittle as dry ice, watching his own adrenaline sublimating out of him, filling the room until his vision is fogged over and everything is silent.

“ _Doc!_ ” He realizes Kid is standing, yelling at him, and hurries to cut the zip-tie still binding his wrists with the bloody knife. 

Kid grabs him by the shoulders as soon as he's free, turning him from the body, and runs anxious hands and eyes over him, softly on his face, then more firmly with the rest of him, making sure he's not missing anything. It only takes a moment, and then he's pulling Law away, scooping up his gun farther down the hall, almost breaking into a run as he hauls Law along with one arm wrapped around him while Law struggles to keep pace.

They burst through a side door, jog down some steps, and then they are running, sprinting through a garden, a gate, a flagstone path, finally coming to a road with a car waiting on it.

Kid pushes him into the back seat of the car, slamming the door behind him and jumping into the passenger side. Killer's already at the wheel, and before Kid has even shut his own door they're peeling out down the street, tires screeching in protest.

“Get your head down,” Kid snaps when he realizes Law is staring out the window in a daze, and reaches back to shove Law's face into the back seat with one hand.

He lays down against the smooth leather seat, closing his eyes and listening to the roaring engine. Killer is putting the car through its paces, that much is certain. He hasn't hardly slowed down, let alone stopped.

Law's head is spinning even faster, and not entirely from the headache that's threatening to crack his skull. He had just murdered someone. There blood was on his hands, quite literally. Belatedly, he notices that he's no longer holding the knife, and he has no idea what happened to it.

He had killed someone. Someone who had abducted him for nefarious purposes. Someone who had been about to kill his—well, about to kill Eustass. And Law had killed him for it. He isn't sure what he expected to feel, but he doesn't feel bad. No remorse, no guilt, no sadness. He felt very... happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact:
> 
> So, Doflamingo got Law's address from Crocodile, but how on earth did Kid get it? Especially when he made a point not to go digging around for Law's background?
> 
> Answer: Shachi. 
> 
> Obviously Shachi noticed when Law started making eyes at Kid after weeks of grudgingly enduring Kid's undaunting affections, and he knew that Law hadn't been seeing anyone lately despite his renowned appetite for the nubile young men he had a habit of chewing up and spitting out with crushed egos and broken hearts. Also it didn't hurt that Kid was a capo who could look out for Law during a time of upheaval in the family. The conditions were ripe, and Shachi's meddlesome matchmaker instincts were tingling. 
> 
> So Shachi decided to give Kid a little extra ammunition to get them alone together for just a few hours, knowing that sparks would fly, because what's more fun than watching a juicy work romance unfold.
> 
> One night while Law wasn't looking, Shachi followed Kid and Killer out of the clinic, and demanded to know what Kid's intentions were towards Law. When he was satisfied by the answer, he swore Kid to secrecy and handed over a little folded piece of paper with Law's address on it. 
> 
> Then he made Kid and Killer give him their phone numbers (“Why..?” “For accountability!!”), and thus began the era of Killer getting more texts than ever before, since he was the only other person Shachi knew who was even aware of this budding love affair and Shachi needed to talk about it. 
> 
> It was only during the week that Law and Kid spent avoiding each other and moping that Shachi realized the whole thing was not turning out to be one of Law's usual affairs. Cue over an hour on the phone with Killer speculating (entirely one-sidedly) about what this meant and what Law and Kid were thinking and how did they really feel about one another and how to fix it so they didn't wind up with a lifetime of regrets. Because it had to mean something if Law was acting so distraught!
> 
> Luckily Killer knew how to wrangle a couple of stubborn idiots. Though mostly he did it so Shachi would stop agonizing at him about Kid and Law's damn feelings.
> 
> Oh, and what did Kid say to convince Shachi to give his blessing? Well, after Shachi badgered him enough, he stopped posturing and admitted he thought the doc was so gorgeous it was driving him insane and he'd give his left arm for a date. Needless to say, Shachi is now the proud owner of the only debt owed by the city's most ruthless debt collector.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Phew, it's been a while. I'm excited about this chapter, so I agonized over it for a long time before I was happy with it. I hope it's worth the wait! This story is close to finished though, I'd like to have it complete by it's 1-year birthday (7/7), so please look forward to that dear readers.

Law isn't aware of time passing as they drive, but eventually the car stops and he sits up to find himself in a motel parking lot. 

Killer gets out of the car without a word, leaving Law alone with Eustass, who stays silent. Law just leans back against the seat and watches Eustass drum painted fingernails across his knee. After a few minutes Killer returns to drive the car around and park in front of one of the motel rooms.

“C'mon Doc,” Kid says, glancing back at Law before he gets out, and Law gets out as well, following Kid up to the door that Killer is unlocking with a room key.

They file in, and Law closes the door behind himself. The room is tiny, furnished with just one double bed, a television set on a dresser, and a round table with one chair by a window. The walls are salmon pink, adorned with a single print of some beach sunset. Killer draws the curtains over the window while Kid quickly checks the room, poking his head into the bathroom and closet and finding nothing of mention. Law watches them from where he hasn't moved, just inside the door. Then Kid drops down on the foot of the bed, and Killer takes the sole chair. 

“Fuck,” Kid exclaims. “What a pile of shit.” He could be talking about this crappy room, the whole damn day, or both. He looks over at Law. “There's some soap by the sink.”

It takes Law a second to understand what Kid is talking about, but then he looks down and sees the blood all over his hands. It's mostly dry by now. He goes to the bathroom and spends several minutes scrubbing it off in the sink with the little square of white soap, until the water runs clear. When he comes back out, Killer gets up to leave.

“I'm going to meet up with Heat and Wire, then I'll be back. I've got the room next door,” he says.“You two need to stay inside, there must be people looking for us already. Especially you, Kid.”

Kid just grunts in reply, and Killer walks out the door. Kid watches him go, then stands as well, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it on the table, along with his gun and its holster. He takes his keys and wallet from his pockets and sets them down on the table with the rest of his things.

The sudden calm is surreal, and so out of place with the rest of the day that it feels like Law is still somewhere else. _Shock, minor concussion, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociation_ , his mind offers succinctly. 

He plucks at the sleeve of his shirt. It's still damp where the cuff had dragged through the blood, and is sticking to his wrist. 

“Eustass.” 

Kid looks over his shoulder at him, pausing from reloading the clip of his gun. “Hm.”

Law doesn't actually have anything to say. He knows there's a lot he should ask, like how did Eustass find him, and why are they in a motel instead of safe and sound at the family headquarters, and what is going on, what's going to happen now... but at the moment he doesn't particularly care about those answers. 

There are also the bigger things, like Eustass coming to his rescue, or Law killing someone. He's not planning on talking about those any time soon, either. If he's lucky he could avoid talking about it indefinitely. 

Kid is waiting for him to continue, but when Law says nothing else he leans back on the edge of the table, studying Law's expression.

“You look like hell. Are you hurt besides the whole...?” Kid trails off and makes a vague gesture at his own face.

Right, he must look as messed up as he felt from Vergo throwing him into walls and floors at every opportunity. He hadn't even noticed his reflection in the bathroom mirror, too busy watching pink suds go down the drain, so he can only assume that it's bad. 

“No.”

“We could get Shanks' doctor out here.”

“It's not that serious.”

“Alright, if you say so... Killer's gonna bring back some ice and meds, you need anything else?”

Law doesn't know, so he just says no again, and they resume staring at each other in silence. 

Kid cracks first. “Fuck it,” he says, and in a few steps he's in front of Law, pulling him in close with both arms circling around him. 

“You have no idea...” he starts to say, then muffles the rest when he presses his face into Law's hair.

Law doesn't know what to do with his hands, and ends up grabbing onto the hem of Kid's shirt. 

Of course Eustass would get sentimental now that they were safe and alone. As long as he didn't say anything too stupid Law was alright with indulging him. The man had protected his virtue at the very least, and most likely saved his life as well. And Law had saved his.

Kid doesn't say anything else though, he just stands still and holds him. 

Law lets him, and rests his forehead against Kid's shoulder. Kid is warm and solid, breathing steadily, the only other sound the dull beat of his heart.

“Eustass,” Law says again quietly, after more than a minute with neither of them moving or speaking.

Kid pulls away only far enough to look down at him, and Law meets his eyes. Kid has relaxed, he hadn't noticed just how sharp and hard he looked before but the difference now is obvious. He still looks serious though, and like he's about to say something Law doesn't want to hear.

Law offers him a small, humorless smile. “Are you going to kiss me or not.”

The shadow of a grin passes over Kid's face just before he leans down to press his lips chastely to Law's.

“Better than that,” Law murmurs as he starts to pull away.

Kid's hands smooth up over his shirt, one cupping the back of his head and the other spreading open between his shoulder blades. “Alright,” he says, dipping in for another kiss, and another, until they slide together in a long sweet meeting of lips and tongue.

Law presses himself flush against Kid and tilts his head to deepen the angle, his fingers curling into Kid's shirt, allowing his restless thoughts to be wiped away. This is what he needed, spoken reassurances or confessions were nothing compared to the feeling of dissolving in Kid's mouth. 

And Kid does not stop kissing him, lips moving softly over his face and jaw, down his neck and the part of his shoulder the collar of his shirt doesn't cover, but always being drawn back to his mouth, insistent and open. 

After a long time of only sharing breath and smooth easy kisses, Kid sighs and nudges his nose against Law's cheek. “You're really ok,” he says.

“Yes.” He isn't completely unscathed, his injuries still ache and he's beginning to feel light-headed, in fact he should probably lie down soon, but he's alive, and so is Kid. 

He can imagine exactly how close either one of them came to dying today. One missed chance, and Vergo could have ended everything right there. 

Absurdly, his most salient realization is that he had only been a second or two away from losing the chance to ever feel what it would be like to have Eustass inside of him. All that time making Eustass wait for it had really gone on long enough. Honestly, he can't remember what the point of all that had been, or why he should wait another second. 

As Kid starts to kiss lightly along the unbruised side of his face, Law turns to catch his mouth again. 

“Eustass,” he says, his lips brushing against Kid's. “Fuck me.”

Kid stills, and blinks at him. “What?”

“I want you. Right now.”

“Doc...”

“Shut up.” He kisses Kid more firmly, dragging teeth over Kid's lip when he pulls back. “I don't care. Just do it.”

Kid stares at him for a moment, a crease forming between his eyes, and Law frowns.

He starts to step away, but Kid grabs the back of his shirt, muttering, “You're so damn confusing,” and covers his mouth with his own. 

This time the kissing soon turns heated and breathless. Law reaches up to put his arms around Kid's neck and bring him closer, sliding his fingers into Kid's hair, and Kid's hands fall to his ass, pulling them tightly together. 

Law grinds his hips forward, making Kid break off with a quick inhale. He can feel Eustass getting hard against him, so he does it again.

“Bed,” he commands, and Kid walks him backwards over to it. He drags Kid down with him, unwilling to let him catch his breath even for a second. When he tugs on Kid's shirt, Kid sits up only enough to pull it over his head and toss it away before coming back to Law's mouth. 

It's difficult to get the rest of their clothes off while they're both too distracted by kissing each other and touching every inch of skin, but somehow they manage. The slide of bare skin on skin makes Law feel raw and over-sensitized, like his nerves are exposed. It's too hot, too much, and it's perfect because it's the only thing he can focus on.

He spreads open under Kid with one touch on his knee, allowing Kid to settle between his legs, and he almost whines when he feels the full length of Kid's cock press into his own. He bites impatiently at Kid's lip, earning himself a groan, and Kid rocks against him, all muscle and hard cock and hot smooth skin that Law wants to completely lose himself in.

Then Kid pulls away abruptly. “Fuck, lube.”

Law is ready to stab him in the face when he jumps off the bed and disappears into the bathroom, leaving Law propped up on his elbows, panting and annoyed. 

Kid returns after a moment with a little bottle of something or other that Law suspects he normally would not tolerate being fucked with, but at this point he really doesn't care, as long as Eustass doesn't dare interrupt things again. 

Kid climbs back into bed, sitting between Law's spread legs, and squeezes white cream from the bottle onto his fingers before spreading it over Law's entrance. It's cold, but it's slick and wet, and when Kid presses a thick finger into him it feels so good he can't stand it. 

Eustass is being painfully slow, hardly moving at all as he massages the cream into him.

“Hurry up,” Law snaps, though his demand is dulled by the breathless way the words fall out. 

Kid's eyes are fixed at the point where he's entering Law. He murmurs something inaudible, but he does obey, drawing the first finger out and replacing it with two, and a third after another half a minute of gentle stroking and stretching. It's not enough at all. 

“Eustass, come on already!”

Kid looks up, gaze trailing over Law's body from where his cock is flushed and laying hard against his belly, up to his mouth, set with impatience. Kid swallows and grabs the bottle again so he can slick up his cock, then finally, finally, he's leaning over Law, braced up on one arm and lining himself up to press in.

Law fists his hands into the bedcovers, opening himself as much as he can, forgetting to breathe while he watches what he can see of Kid's cock before it sinks into him. 

His flesh is parted all at once by the wide head of Kid's cock and he pants open-mouthed as Kid keeps going, still too patient but insistent, filling him with an aching pressure that burns in his too-tight muscles and lights up his nerves.

Kid's eyes are half-closed and sightless above him. He lets go of himself and reaches under Law to lift him up, and with a few more rocking thrusts he's seated all the way inside. He takes one halting breath, seeming too overwhelmed to do much else.

Law is quicker to adjust. He wraps his hand around the arm Kid has planted on the bed by his side, and shimmies as best he can with Kid holding him up. “Yes, good... keep going.”

Kid rolls his hips tentatively, barely enough to move even an inch, but the slide inside him is so damn good.

“Fuck, you're perfect,” Kid sighs, pulling out to thrust back in a little harder.

But still too fucking slow. Law digs his fingers into Kid's forearm, at the same time grabbing Kid by the hair and dragging him down. Kid makes a startled sound that gets cut off by Law's mouth, and his hips jerk forward on their own. He automatically catches Law's thigh to steady himself, struggling to keep his control and not doing very well. 

Law is determined not to help him with that. He licks into Kid's mouth, curling over his tongue and bringing him to distraction, and wraps his legs around Kid's waist to coax him into moving. 

Kid melts over him with a little encouragement, starting a slow pulse that speeds up to a hard snap of his hips, until he's driving into Law so deeply each time that it pushes the breath from his lungs. 

There could be no better feeling than this: on his back, Kid's wonderful thick cock fucking the sanity right out of him. His fingers are twisted in Kid's hair so tight his knuckles are getting sore, but Kid is far from complaining. He's kissing Law helplessly, fucking him desperately, like there's nothing so important in the world as getting as far inside of him as possible.

Law is eager to give himself up to it, moaning against Kid's mouth, breaking away to catch some air so he can gasp, “Yes, yes, so _good_ , just like that—” before he's pulling Kid back down and stifling the rest with lips and tongue and teeth clicking together. 

Kid's nails are clawing into his thigh but the pain is far away, overrun by the pressure and heat filling him up, the hot liquid pleasure spreading out under every inch of his skin until he can't stop it from brimming over and he's coming without warning, without even having been touched. 

“Oh fuck, _fuck_ —” he curses, and grabs onto Kid with every last ounce of his strength, reflexively yanking Kid's hair as his orgasm floods through him, like he's really going to be swept away by it all.

Kid's rhythm skips a beat, and then he's gone too, falling forward to bury his face against Law's neck as he slams in one last time and spills deep.

They're both left catching their breaths, their racing hearts slowing down in tandem while they lie tangled together and silent, both unwilling to move or speak for at least a minute or two. 

Then Law squirms enough for Kid to get the hint to pull out and stop squashing him into the mattress.

Kid gets up and manages to pull the sheets and blankets over them before he settles back down, still on top of Law but in a position that fits them together more comfortably. He's warm and heavy and humid, smelling like fresh sweat and sex, and he gives Law a kiss. He doesn't stop with just one of course, it turns into three and six and ten. 

Law accepts them all without complaint, even though it feels like they've been kissing for hours already and his lips are soft and tender. His head is pounding again too, and his cum is drying and turning sticky where it's pressed between his stomach and Eustass', but he's finally run out of energy and it would take more than any of that to get him out of bed now.

Kid seems close to exhaustion as well. His kisses get slower and clumsier until Law realizes that he's going to fall asleep while kissing him.

“Eustass, just go to sleep if you're tired. We can do this in the morning, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Don't wanna stop,” Kid mumbles against his lips, with his eyes already closed.

“You're going to smother me,” Law says, but instead of stopping him he just reaches up to run fingers through his hair. That seems to do the trick, because a minute later Kid is sound asleep, his head tucked into the curve of Law's shoulder.

Law envies his ability to do that like it's nothing, but he doesn't begrudge him for it. It would be a good idea for him to try and get to sleep as well, even though it's still early. He needs to recover, to put some distance between himself and this day that's sitting in his mind like it's crouched right behind him. He'll gain control over it. He'll know what to say about it in the morning.

Still, he doesn't want the first night he sleeps with Eustass to be in some crappy motel bed. It's a stubborn desire, and somewhat irrational, they had just fucked for the first time in this same crappy motel bed after all. 

He doesn't care, sleeping is different than sex. He's had sex a thousand times with many different partners, but he can't remember ever being able to sleep with another person in bed. It's hard enough just falling asleep by himself. 

He's not going to tell Eustass to leave though, even if it means he won't be getting any sleep at all. He might just lose it if he has to spend the night alone in this ugly pink room.

He has to push Kid off him after a while. The man weighs a ton and puts off heat like a furnace, he'd be lying in a disgusting puddle of their combined sweat given another ten minutes. Law stays at his side instead, just looking at him, tracing over Eustass' closed eyes and crooked nose, the soft blush of his lips, down his thickly muscled neck and shoulders that are dappled with hundreds of tiny freckles he's never examined close enough to notice before. 

From a distance Eustass looks as smooth and hard as marble, but like this it's easy to see the imperfections, all the scars crisscrossing over him, thin and white and almost invisible on his pale skin. Whenever Law has taken the time to look it seems like there's always more than he remembers – proof of a violent life. 

Kid's knuckles are especially battered, and Law grazes a thumb across the ones of the hand Kid has resting on his stomach. They're hard and solid as cast iron, taking a hit from them would doubtlessly feel like getting mauled with a 50 pound sledgehammer. The hands of an idiot who would go tearing into Doflamingo's mansion almost entirely alone.

Law lingers on one mark that scores over Kid's bicep, not as old and worn as most of them and still a little pink. It's less than a year old after all, the same slash that Law stitched together the night they met. As a surgeon he's unhappy that it's still visible, having not healed perfectly since Kid ignored all of his aftercare instructions, though by this time next year it might be gone.

When the nostalgia is too much for him to bear he starts to get out of bed.

Kid closes a hand around his wrist before he goes very far. “Where ya goin'?” he asks, less awake than not.

“Bathroom,” Law says. “I'll be back in a minute, go to sleep.”

Kid grumbles a bit, but he lets go and rolls over face down into the side of the bed Law had just vacated.

Law cleans himself off at the bathroom sink with one of the scratchy washcloths, then finally takes a good look at himself in the mirror to assess the damage. He has a huge bruise on his cheek, one hell of a black eye, and he prods the lump on the back of his head with a wince. No wonder Kid had seemed anxious.

It hurts just as bad as it looks, though it looks worse than it really is. His vision is alright, and his pupils are dilating normally, so his head can't be too fucked up, plus he's not missing any teeth and his bones all seem to be intact. He'll just look and feel like shit for a few days.

Eustass had mentioned something about Killer and pain meds, but Law has seen no sign of Killer since he left. Chances are he had returned by now and correctly assumed they weren't in any condition to answer the door. 

Law doesn't bother trying to get in touch with him, even though all it would take is a text message and he would be able to ice his bruises and take a few painkillers. He doesn't want to get dressed, and he doesn't want to talk to anyone else until tomorrow.

When he returns to the main room, going back to bed right away doesn't seem appealing either. He knows he won't be able to fall asleep for hours. Instead he goes over to where Kid's jacket is laying on the table, and takes out the lighter and the pack of cigarettes that are always in the inside pocket. 

He nudges the chair closer to the window and sits down, pushing the curtains apart a few inches so he can open the window before he shakes out a cigarette and lights up. He hasn't smoked in years, but the drag is still smooth and the taste isn't too bad – he's been getting it secondhand being around Eustass all the time. The sun had set some time ago, and he rests his elbows on the windowsill while he looks out into the dark parking lot, letting the smoke trail from his lips to be caught in the slight breeze blowing outside. 

The cigarette is only halfway gone when Kid appears at his side and plucks it from between his fingers, tossing it out of the window.

“Stop poking your head out, somebody might see you,” Kid mutters, moving Law away so he can slide the window shut and close the curtains again. 

“No one could see me.”

“Don't take any chances, alright?” Kid cups his face briefly in one hand before he sits back down on the side of the bed, only a couple feet away from where Law stays in the chair.

“Is he really that dangerous?” Law doesn't have to say Doflamingo's name, doesn't want to say it in case it summons him like a curse. They both know who he means.

“Not just him, that bastard Croc is mixed in too somehow. It's a real fucking mess right now.” Kid's voice drops down to just above a growl as he goes on, “I don't know why he decided to screw with you. I knew he was a freak, but I didn't think he'd do anything like this. He only saw you for a minute at the party. I should've looked out for you better though... there's no reason you should've been involved in this shit. We'll take care of it, don't worry. I'm gonna kill that fucker at least.”

A little shiver of unease sinks through Law and settles in the pit of his stomach. There is a reason that he was involved, and Kid couldn't have predicted it, he didn't have the whole story. Law hadn't told him. It almost makes him feel sick to realize that Kid is thinking he should have been able to stop this from happening in the first place. As much Law doesn't want to say anything, he has a chance clear that up now.

“That party wasn't the first time we met,” he says, then regrets it immediately when Kid looks straight at him, sharp and intent. This was a mistake, he should have waited until morning. Something is wrong with him right now if he's suddenly giving in to fits of conscience. But it's too late, Kid is hooked.

“What? What do you mean? Was that bastard bothering you?”

“No, he knows me from... before I started working for the family.”

“What the fuck? Why didn't you say anything?”

“It was old history, and not any of your business.”

Kid leans forward, grabbing the edge of the bed and glaring at him. “The fuck it's not my business! How the hell did he know you?”

“That's not something I want to get into,” Law says, any remaining desire to alleviate Kid's guilt quickly drying up in the face of his temper.

“Then what am I supposed to do! You could have fucking died!”

Law snaps. Kid is the one who had almost been shot to death right in front of his eyes, and he had the gall to get mad at him? "I wasn't going to die! You almost got us both killed by getting involved, and that's exactly why I didn't tell you in the first place. I knew you would lose your stupid head over it and just make it worse!"

"Wha- What the FUCK are you talking about! Make it _worse_? Are you fucking insane, I had to come! What did you think Doflamingo was going to do with you?!"

That touches a cold hook of fear still lodged in his chest. He had known, of course, that Doflamingo's designs pointed directly towards him getting violated, and he had divided all his mental energy between trying to escape and steeling himself for that inevitability if he couldn't get away in time. But the thought of what would happen to him after Doflamingo had had his fun was too much to consider, so he hadn't spared it much thought.

Clearly Kid's mind had been working through all the worst possible outcomes for the both of them.

Law's anger is short-lived, replaced by a fresh crush of exhaustion. He drops his face into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

His head hurts. His stomach hurts. He's never had the shit kicked out of him before and it's fucking awful, but he's not going to complain about it at this point. It's shameful how Vergo had no trouble bringing him low. No doubt Eustass, or anybody in his crew, would've been a lot more difficult to abduct. 

He doesn't want to be arguing about anything with Kid right now, let alone this. He wasn't going to get fucked by a blond madman, and neither of them were going to die, because Kid had found him despite everything else.

"I don't know what he'd do. It's not my fault I got kidnapped, so stop yelling at me for not spilling my life story to you on the off chance that this could have been prevented."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you fuckin' know it," Kid growls, but the near-frantic edge of his voice has broken off. “I'm not trying to make you give up your damn secret identity, but shit like this is different. Your bullshit silent treatment almost got you killed, you can't fucking do that – christ, I don't know what the fuck I'd do, alright? If there's something else you need to tell me, please Doc, _please_.”

Law hates it. Hates how Kid can say something like that, hates his honesty, hates how he's just been allowing Law to keep his layers of self-defense when all this time he could cut right through them like it's nothing, like it's pointless.

_Fuck you_ , he wants to say. _Why the fuck do you think you're allowed to care. How could you fuck this up so much_.

He wants to rip into that vulnerability that Kid admitted so easily, to fucking scream, but he's so goddamn tired and he _hates_ that he can't do it.

“I'd do anything for you, you know,” Kid murmurs after a minute of silence. “I'll really kill him.” He's staring at his clenched fists, like he's going to do it right now.

Law knows. Worse than that even, he knows Kid is ready to die for him. He won't forget the sight of Eustass glaring up the barrel of Vergo's gun for a long time, as much as he wants to cut the memory out like so much rotten flesh.

Fuck. Fuck it.

“Alright, alright I'll tell you, just-- just stop talking already,” he says. When Eustass stays quiet for half a minute, he forces himself to speak. 

“Doflamingo is a business associate of my father's. I'd only spoken to him a few times, nothing unusual. I don't know if my parents are aware he has gang affiliations, but I had no idea until I saw him at the hotel. He recognized me of course, and held my real identity over my head." He confesses it all in one breath, and Eustass doesn't make a sound, even when he finishes and is waiting for a reaction.

He finds himself rambling on in the silence, saying things that aren't relevant. "My father owns insurance firms, and my mother is an heiress, her family built hospitals... they have a lot of social standing, connections with wealthy people that want their names on a building. If their perfect little son was arrested for organized crime it would mortify them.

"Not that I would mind," he adds bitterly, "but I have my own reputation to maintain as well. It would be a shame to lose these credentials over something as petty as violent crime."

Kid isn't watching him anymore, but Law can tell he's listening intently. When he pauses, Kid's eyes flick over to him, entreating him for more while trying not to say the wrong thing.

Law finds it almost amusing. Eustass must be thinking how spoiled he is, the son of stinking old money, more worried about his reputation than anything so low-class as going to prison for his crimes, or getting kidnapped and raped to death by a member of a rival gang.

"I'm really a surgeon you know, not a physician. Specialized in cardiothoracic surgery. Used to cut my patients up every day. Would you believe I'm a prodigy?"

He says it sarcastically, but Eustass answers anyway.

“Yeah, you're enough of a shithead for it."

It's such a typical response from Eustass, but so unexpected that a short clipped laugh takes him by surprise. Here he is spilling out his other life, his real life, and Eustass doesn't seem the least bit fazed. "That's right. I'm famous too, it made the news when I started working at the city hospital. Maybe you've even heard of me."

"What's your name, doc?" Kid asks quietly, after months of not knowing, not prying. 

He still wants to evade, to shy away and refuse to give up that last piece of secrecy, but what's the fucking point anymore.

"..Trafalgar. Trafalgar Law."

"Hm." Kid leans over and reaches out to hook a hand around Law's elbow, tugging him out of the chair and into bed with him. 

Law doesn't protest, he's too relieved that he doesn't have to say anything else.

"That sounds like you,” Kid says. He moves back against the headboard and slides an arm around Law, keeping him close to his side under the sheets. “I always thought you'd have a name like Percival, or Reginald though... something so prissy you didn't want anyone to know.”

“Fuck you.” Law is kicking himself now for saying anything beyond the barest necessity. Tomorrow he can blame it on Eustass taking advantage of his head injury.

"Mr. Big Fancy Surgeon can't take any shit, huh?" Kid says, hiding his grin by nuzzling into Law's hair.

“You're just an asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kid breathes, a warm puff of air over his temple. “You want someone to keep an eye on your folks?”

“No, they're fine.”

“You sure?” 

“Yes, now shut up. I don't want to talk anymore,” Law mutters, turning his face against Kid's chest to make it clear he's done with conversation for at least the next few hours, if not the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Alright. You gonna be able to sleep? I can go bunk over with Killer.”

“Eustass, shut the fuck up.” _Don't be considerate, you stupid prick. I can't deal with any more of this._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos/reviews make my day.


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